Nightfall::::The Story of King Edmund The Just
by TikiTyler9
Summary: 6yrs after LWW. Edmund's life is turned upside-down. Haunting visions of Jadis, unwilling attacks against his own family,& suspicions from his people drive him towards new friends, dangerous enemies, a beautiful stranger, and ghosts from his past.
1. Prologue:: Eyes and Ice

A/N::: Hey guys! I finally decided to set aside some time to begin my newest fan fic. This is once again a Narnia story, but is also an actual _novel_, not just a quick one-shot like my other stories. I really hope you all enjoy this one. It's my first novel-fic, so bear with me, but I'm pretty excited about it. I'll try to update as often as I can. I tried to remain as true to both the books and the movies as possible, but please be forgiving if I make a slight error. Thank you all so much, I look forward to hearing your thoughts, and taking you on this little trip of my imagination. xoxox. Tiki.

::::NIGHTFALL::::

THE STORY OF KING EDMUND THE JUST

:CHAPTER ONE:

EYES AND ICE

I've dreamed the same dream as long as I can remember. It's always long, always bright with foggy colors, and always dancing somewhere between a vision and a nightmare. In my life I'd seen a thousand strange and terrible things. I've traveled into the deepest corners of the Western Wood, where the fungi on the trees sparkle in the darkness, their glittering lights stretching up on the trunks hundreds of feet high, like the glowing windows of some thriving city. I've been tied and beaten in the freezing caves of the Barbaric Giants, my mouth gagged with a bloody rag and my nose filled with the reeking stench of the bodies of their latest meals strewn around me. I've visited the prayer gardens of the unicorns, the bowels of a Telmarine ship, and the courtyards of the Archenland palace.

And yet, of none of these things, both wonderful and horrid, do I dream. My polite kisses with beautiful duchesses, nor the look in my enemies' eyes before I ran them through with my blade… my sleeping mind remains unmoved.

It always begins with an explosion. An earth-shaking, bone-shattering burst of sound and light, and the feel of my brother's arms wrapped tightly around me. I don't see his face, but I'm sure it's him. He holds me for a while as glass and ice fall in deadly splinters around us. The sound is still ringing in my ears when all else fades, and nothing remains but a pair of deep brown eyes. They resemble Lucy's, but they're older, sadder, more filled with loving worry. I wish I knew whose they were. They fill up my entire dream for some time, until I see a distant figure in some type of uniform trying to burst through cracked glass. I can't see him very well through the smoke and glass, but his build reminds me of Peter. I keep trying to reach him, but soon I slip off an invisible cliff and fall with a silent scream into the blackness. I can hear my older siblings calling after me, but their voices become muffled as I land into a massive pile of fur coats. I have only one second to breathe a sigh of relief before I am swallowed whole, and begin to drown inside the fur. No one can hear me, as my mouth becomes filled with fur and snow, until an icy but welcome hand pulls me out. I can't see a face, only blinding sunlight bouncing off the snow and a voice as sweet as candy, as her icy breath tingles against my neck. I feel my insides stir, and my stomach growl painfully for more but soon I'm plunged into darkness again.

That pain in my stomach is so real it often wakes me from this dream in the middle of the night, but no matter how long I stay awake, or how hard I try to ease the ache, the dream always picks right back up as soon as I drift asleep once again. I'm always lying face-down on a never-ending expanse of blue ice, but then a heavy, warm paw turns me over onto my back and breathes life into my lips. Red drops of life that spread throughout my entire body. As the warmth spreads, my freezing skin becomes clothed in brilliant fabric, warm and soft, and silver birch leaves grow artfully around my head. Once again I feel Peter's arms around me, and his hot tears against my skin. I keep looking for those older, dark eyes, and that familiar figure trying to reach me through a frame of cracked glass, but instead all I see is His face. Golden and perfect. Dangerous and divine. He's smiling at me from across a field of melting ice. The final ounce of warmth is reaching my heart, and I feel my eyes shut in complete ecstasy as Lucy and Susan's arms wrap around me. I wait for the last drop of life to fill up my heart, but then it always ends the same.

A chilling scream as loud as the dream's beginning explosion and as cold as those bony fingers resounds in my ears and shakes my insides to bits. In the blackness of my closed eyes I see a flash of blue light and a pair of crimson lips against china skin. The last drop of His warmth is chased away, leaving me with a tiny splinter of ice nestled in my heart. It feels even colder surrounded by all the golden light inside, and as I open my eyes to seek His reassuring face, I always find myself staring up at the ceiling of my room.

So no, I wasn't surprised when my eyes shot open to see the strange shadows dancing across my room from my curtains fluttering in the soft moonlight. Aslan was gone, those familiar eyes of brown, and that resounding scream was now just the lullaby of the wind laughing through the trees. I sat up in bed and ran a hand over my face, hot and sticky with sweat. When I was younger, when these dreams first began, I used to make frequent visits to my brother's room just down the hall. I couldn't remember having them as a very little child, but then again I remembered next to nothing of those days anyway. My earliest memories were probably clearest in that dream. But I remembered the night of my coronation—bolting upright in my sheets with a scream and clutching my chest in the darkness. Peter came bursting through the doors just moments later, and the two of us sat out on my balcony, watching the moon hang over the Western Woods as I fell asleep. I had no idea then just how routine that nightly vision would become.

But no longer did I run to my brother for comfort. I may have wanted to, but this was the night before my eighteenth birthday, and as I threw aside my covers and placed my feet on the floor, I shook my head with the acceptance that some things had to change. I knew Peter, even at twenty-two, wouldn't mind easing my fears in the middle of the night, but I had always been different from my brother.

Was it strange that I could smell Narnia's moon? Some nights, when the wind was wild, and the moon at its fullest, I could smell its sweetness in the air. That scent greeted my nostrils as I stepped onto my balcony and ran my hands over the marble railing. My Western Woods sprawled out like a rolling green carpet before Cair Paravel, and I could hear the dull roar of the Eastern Sea, resonating from the other side of the castle. Something shook me harder tonight than usual, and even though the early summer air was warm, I felt a chill take hold. One deep breath of the moonlight, and I felt a little better.

A chorus of wolves was howling not far from the palace, their songs bouncing off the walls and filling up my chest. It's strange how after all that's happened in my past, that sound somehow never gives me anything but excited butterflies. I stood there as their songs faded into the wind, chewing my lower lip in deliberation, until I finally felt a smile tug at my mouth's corners. I turned back into my room, slipping a cloak over my pajamas and sliding into a pair of boots. I grabbed my sword and crossbow from my closet, and cast one last look out my open balcony before exiting my room with a grin.

The wolves were always happy when I opted to join them on warm nights, and I'd be back before my birthday brunch. Besides, I needed this. I needed to take Phillip at full gallop through the whistling trees, smelling the moon, laughing with the wolves, and forgetting those pair of eyes, and the fact that tonight that splinter of ice near my heart felt colder than usual.

******

A/N:::: Ok guys! I know this one was a bit short, but it's really just an intro. Hope this first taste was enjoyable, and look out for the first chapter! Feedback is always welcome. :)

And please take note that CS Lewis mentions that the Pevensies' memories of their past life on Earth became more distant as they continued to rule, which is where I am trying to go with this whole dream. Well... one of the places I'm trying to go... the rest is still in the future ;)


	2. Downfall

A/N::::: Okay, so I got this next chapter out ridiculously quickly. I cannot promise to always update so soon, but I really wanted to get this story started, so my readers could have a better idea of what it's about, and what kind of story it is. So here you go. Hope you all enjoy, and I'd love you hear your thoughts, theories, and favorite parts. Thank you all so much for reading.

::::NIGHTFALL::::

THE STORY OF KING EDMUND THE JUST

:CHAPTER TWO:

DOWNFALL

I'm guessing by the expressions on my siblings' faces that I looked like hell when I walked into the gardens for breakfast that next morning. I was still picking twigs out of my hair, and felt weights tugging at the bottom lids of my sleepy eyes as I stumbled with a saddle-sore behind onto the stone porch over-looking the sea. I was still in my pajamas, now tattered and filthy, and I had my cross-bow slung over my shoulder.

Susan froze, her knife still dripping with honey as it hovered over her toast, with her pretty mouth hung way open. Lucy covered up a laugh with a pathetic attempt at a cough as Peter shoved a chair from the table with his foot and a shake of his head.

"Sit," he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

I spun the seat around and straddled it backwards, propping my weapon against the table. The others stared incredulously at me as I used my napkin to mop the dried blood off my forearm, sealing the scratch I'd received while riding through a particularly dense thicket. I looked up at them with raised eyebrows.

"What? No 'happy birthday to me'?"

"We were prepared to sing that two hours ago, when brunch began," Susan chided, shoving me a bowl of scrambled eggs that I would guess were rather cold by now. But I didn't care. I was famished.

"We got lost," I shrugged, spooning them onto my plate.

"You don't get lost in those woods," Peter reminded me. He didn't sound angry like Susan. Or even annoyed. He just sounded a bit tired as he poured me a glass of juice.

"We lost the _time_ then," I corrected.

"Those scrapes look pretty nasty," Sue observed, her face contorted in slight disgust as I continued to pick at my scabs at the table. I had to agree, it was pretty disgusting. But I kind of liked how it grossed her out.

"Although I'm guessing they're not as nasty as the ones on your chest and back," Lucy grinned knowingly, looking down at her fruit.

I frowned. "I'm fine."

"You were wrestling with the wolves again," Peter said. Not a question.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," I mumbled, trying not to meet anyone's gaze as I picked at the grapes on my dish.

"Your shirt's buttoned wrong," my brother observed.

"And you have red seeping through right there," Lu pointed to the fabric covering my right ribs with a grin. I was suddenly reminded of a tiny girl, standing in the snow with that same smile. _Some little kids don't know when to stop pretending_.

I sighed and shook my head in resignation. "I can't tell them to go easy on me. They'll lose respect for their King."

"Exactly," Susan interjected, clanking her fork on the china. "You _are_ King, Edmund! You can't just vanish in the middle of the night, retreating into the woods with Phillip to do heaven knows what."

"I couldn't sleep. It was no big deal."

"It _is. _You look awful! You're one of the monarchs of Narnia, and you go out on your own, without any kind of guard, in the woods at night, without telling anyone… it's just not wise."

"We all go out on our own."

"But not when it's unsafe. Not in the dead of night, in the forest!"

I was growing agitated. "I know my woods," I mumbled, glaring up at her through my lashes.

"You show up late to brunch. We were waiting for you, Edmund. You need to be clean and rested. The Archenland royal court will be here in a matter of hours for _your_ birthday. Please… just… act your age."

"Sue," Peter finally interrupted—gently but firmly. My older sister sat back with a huff and smoothed out the napkin in her lap. Lucy was slurping on a pear, trying to block us out by gazing at the sun shimmering on the water far below. I calmed myself with several breaths before looking at my brother.

He folded his napkin slowly and laid it on his plate with a thoughtful sigh. I waited; I knew something was coming. He stood up and crossed to my side of the table. The Eastern wind was tossing his golden hair in every direction, and Rhindon was hanging at his side. It's amazing. Even this early in the morning, my brother looked like a King.

He placed his hand on my shoulder. "Just be careful out there Ed," he said softly. "And take me sometime."

I was grinning like an idiot as he walked past me towards the castle. Lucy was still gazing into the distance, but her cheeks were gathered up in a rosy smile now. Susan was obviously trying to remain silent as she ran her fingertips over the rim of her glass.

"Happy Birthday, Edmund," he called, and I turned around to see Peter standing beneath the archway of the palace.

I smiled even wider. Instead of saying thank you, I said, "I _will _take you next time, Pete. You should see it."

He nodded before turning into the castle, and another memory flooded my mind. _And Edmund… try not to wander off_.

"At least hurry and finish your food," Susan's voice broke my daydream. I turned to see her watching me with her arms crossed. "There are four nymphs upstairs waiting to be sure you're dressed properly for this afternoon."

I chuckled quietly and scooped some eggs into my mouth. "These are pretty good," I said with a full mouth.

Sue's stone expression softened just slightly. "They were better warm."

I smiled. "I love you, Susan."

She laughed and stood from her chair. "Get those twigs out of your hair," she snapped lightly as she walked gracefully into the roses, leaving Lu and I to watch the tide go out and talk of the hunt.

*********

I should have _stayed_ lost in the forest. Not that I ever really was, but you understand what I mean. By dinner I was completely fed up, and I felt like my crown was squeezing my brain through my ears. Susan and Peter were already in the banquet hall as I paused in one of the corridors to look at myself in a gilded mirror. Making a face, I stubbornly freed a lock of black hair from its neat place at my temple and let it stray across my forehead. I felt gentle hands on my back and looked in the reflection to see my little sister smiling sweetly over my shoulder.

"Try not to look so sad," she asked softly. "It's your birthday."

I snorted very unroyaly through my nose. "Is it?"

Lucy understood. "I know it wasn't exactly your idea of the perfect day. But you have us here, and that's all that matters. Plus, once the Archenlanders are gone, we'll all take you out. We can picnic on the beach, then take a really long trail ride to Mr. Tumnus's place for a birthday dinner. He made me the best goulash for my sixteenth last year."

I met her dark eyes in the mirror, just a happier, younger version of those from my dream, and let a smile wash over me as I pat the hand she had laid on my shoulder. "Sounds good, Lu," I sighed.

"You look really nice," she commented as we continued to walk towards the hall. I titled my crown with a crooked smile.

"I know it."

She just laughed and took my hand. I smiled and looked briefly at the beautiful woman she had become. Less elegant than Susan, but more captivating. Different. A spark of life with honey brown hair in a bold pink and gold gown that echoed the colors of Narnia's sky at sundown. "You're very pretty, Lucy," I admitted quietly, locking my eyes ahead towards the banquet hall door to avoid my sister's doe-eyed expression.

She just squeezed my hand.

Although I was feeling a bit better by the time we reached the banquet hall doors, my stomach still plummeted once they swung open. The sky was turning a dark rose color, beckoning to me from just outside the marble arches. Inside was another matter. Our dinners usually consisted of my siblings and sometimes the closest members of our court, all sitting out in the gardens and listening to the dryads singing to the sunset, or the fauns whistling through reed flutes. The music was still beautiful tonight, a string and flute arrangement played by a company of fauns and centaurs, but all else was lost. The hall was swarming with nymphs, centaurs, fauns, satyrs, dwarves, talking beasts, and humans, all laughing unnaturally loud and all creating an elaborate obstacle course for me to surmount before I was to reach the ornate table at the front of the room, where my older siblings sat with half a dozen Archenland courtiers. I sighed, and Lucy squeezed my hand one more time before leading the way through the crowd.

"Happy Birthday, King Edmund."

"Many Happy Returns, Your Highness."

"An honor to be here today, King Edmund."

"Looking more royal every birthday, Sire."

"Best wishes on this very monumental birthday, King Edmund the Just."

I muttered about a million thank yous as I pushed my way through the court. It was like trying to navigate through a circus, and at the front of it all sat one of the few people who could perhaps make a bit more sense of it all.

Peter offered me a secret smile as I wearily reached my seat atop the elevated table, and plopped unceremoniously into my chair. Lucy took the empty seat beside me, remaining only seconds before Susan bent over to whisper something in her ear. A moment of hesitation, and a brief look of guilt cast my way, was all I received before Lucy stood again and walked to Susan's other side.

I was about to ask what that was all about, but hadn't even gotten past the word 'that' when a familiar figure in crimson swooped down to occupy the neighboring chair.

I hoped she didn't hear the heavy flow of breath that escaped my lips as I dropped my chin onto my fist in frustration.

"Your Highness," smiled a pretty girl, her ebony hair sparkling with pearls and tied back in a slick heart-shaped bun atop her head.

I forced a smile and made myself sit in a position that didn't look quite so crushed. "Lady Rosalie. I see you've managed to find time to make your hair even more elaborate than this afternoon."

Missing my tone completely, Lady Rosalie smiled brightly and reached up to delicately touch her hair with her gloved fingertips. "How nice of you to notice, King Edmund."

"Just call me Edmund," I insisted.

She somehow managed to smile even wider. "You are too modest, Edmund."

I wasn't being modest. I just hated waiting for her to say my entire title every sentence. I even considered asking her to just call me Ed in order to shorten her phrases as much as possible. I nodded politely and turned to take the basket of bread my brother was handing me with an apologetic smile. I wasn't really being fair. Lady Rosalie was not the nightmare I'd built up in my mind. She was actually sweet, and very attentive. And beautiful. There was no doubt the men of the Archenland court were quite fascinated with her, and apparently a bit envious of me. But they took solace in the fact that both my royal sisters were even more brilliant in their beauty.

But I didn't want her attention, and I didn't want her beauty. She was like the ornate wardrobe the Calormene prince had tried to bribe me with just last year. It was golden and expensive, glittering in the hot sunlight that streamed through Rabadash's palace windows the day he presented it to me.

"For your glorious array of hunting apparel," he had told me, arms outstretched as if ready to embrace the thing. "Such an impressive wardrobe as yours deserves an equally impressive chamber."

I had stood eyeing it strangely, stroking what little facial hair I had before Lucy had convinced me to shave it off, and gazing up and down its winding decorations of golden molding. "It _is_ impressive," I had agreed quietly. But I didn't want it. For some reason I was picturing something more simple for my grand collection of hunting tunics and leather armor. Something made of dark wood, with images carved lightly into the grain, ghostly images, like memories. Of course I had to take the wardrobe, but I gave it to Sue. She liked golden things.

And that was what Lady Rosalie was. She was beautiful, rich, impressive. But I couldn't give her to Susan, so I was forced to sit and listen to her abundant stories as I swallowed yet another glass of wine and waited for the feast to end. The second she rode forward on her horse, beside her uncle, the Duke of Archenland, I knew…. I knew she was meant for me. Suddenly this birthday visit made awful sense.

"Such delightful music," she was saying, carefully touching her hair again, making sure it was still in place on her head. As if it could ever fall from that solid bun with the help of anything but brute force. "But not very practical for dancing."

"Perfect for eating," I mentioned with a sip of wine and an internal sigh. "And Narnians can dance to it. It just takes practice."

I cringed as the words escaped my lips, leaving what I knew was a terrible opening. Rosalie's face ignited with ecstasy.

"Would you care to show me, Edmund?"

I almost choked on my drink. Peter was pretending to listen to King Lune, but somehow as a brother, I knew without a doubt that he was waiting for my reply. I sputtered slightly before saying, "M'lady, I am hardly a proper candidate to demonstrate the grace of Narnian footwork. If you need someone to demonstrate swordplay, then I am your man. But dancing has always been more my brother's game. Which is why he gets all the dates… and I win all the duels." I hoped he heard that.

Rosalie giggled loudly and tapped her fork against the tabletop shyly. "I am sure you are selling yourself short, Your Highness."

"Have you tried the strawberry tarts?" I asked quickly. "The recipe comes from one of my oldest friends, a lovely beaver from across the woods."

She laughed again, even more loudly. "King Edmund, I just cannot properly grasp the fact that you and your court converse with animals in such a simple manner. It still seems like something from a fairytale to me. Archenland is nothing like your kingdom." When I only answered with a small smile, she leaned in closer. "So many things from Narnia seem like a fairytale to me. Everything so vivid. So wild. Such untamed beauty." Her voice was getting softer with every word, and her face closer. I felt like I was practically sitting in my brother's lap in an attempt to shy away, and I hoped it didn't look as ridiculous as I felt.

My throat felt dry, and I coughed while picking up my fork. "You really should try these tarts," I insisted lamely, digging the utensil into mine. But before I could pop it into my mouth, Lady Rosalie had closed her eyes and opened her lips into a perfect "o". I sat there deliberating for a moment, holding the fork in my sweaty hand, and fidgeting in my seat like a toddler. Susan was watching from three seats down with a horrified expression, and Lucy discreetly smacked her palm against her forehead with a gentle sigh. I quickly turned to face Peter, but all I saw was the back of his head as he continued to listen to the King. I looked desperately into Sue's eyes, pleading for advice, but all I got was an unhelpful shrug of sisterly-pity mixed with royal obligation.

All this happened within the space of several seconds, and with an exasperated sigh I tossed my fork onto my plate and stood from my chair. I didn't know if Rosalie opened her eyes again or not, because I turned abruptly away and began to walk behind my brother's chair.

"You said to take you next time," I whispered harshly. "You have ten minutes, or I'm leaving without you."

I didn't watch to gauge his reaction; I just marched resolutely from the hall. I thought I heard that high-pitched voice calling after me, but it was soon lost in the song of the flutes, and then I was out the door. I tossed my cape roughly over one of the bronze statues outside the doorway, and took off down the hall.

*********

I waited twenty minutes before I accepted he wasn't coming. I exited the palace grounds through one of the side gardens, where there were fewer guards. It was a cinch for me to get around the three armed centaurs standing sentry at the garden walls. I was always good a sneaking around. I didn't take Phillip with me this time; the poor guy needed his rest after a long night of running. Instead I just fiddled with the hilt of my sword as I made my way down the overgrown path that led to the bottom of our hill by the sea.

I hadn't felt this way in a long time. I'd felt frustrated a million times since I took one of the thrones at Cair Paravel. I always hated these dinners. I often threw fits when I was forced to stand and greet a never-ending line of courtiers. I'd walked out on several infuriating young ladies who treated me like Prince Charming instead of King Edmund. Or even just Edmund. I'd been scolded by Susan more times than I could count for bailing on my duties, and more than once I'd felt like a lousy monarch compared to my brother and sisters.

But this was different. This was worse. I didn't know why exactly, but this kind of isolation took me back to a snowy night, bathed in blue, and a lonely march towards an icy castle. I shivered at the thought, even in the summer night air. Those hazy memories always made me feel like it was winter. I didn't always know just how I got to that place in the witch's clutches… but after I stepped into that courtyard of stone prisoners, my memories remain crystal clear.

I felt a strange, chilly tingle in my chest, and tugged at my tunic's collar as I reached the ocean. The sun had set long ago, but the heat from its rays was still trapped in the sand. I sat on a smooth log of driftwood, and kicked my boots from my feet. The beach felt like warm silk around my toes, and I tilted back my head and sucked in the salty air. It wasn't my Western Wood, but it was still home.

Later on I was angry with myself for not hearing those muffled footsteps sooner. I opened my eyes and began to sit up just a split second before I was tossed to the ground with a heavy shove, my own sword yanked from its sheath by a new presence, and its tip aimed just inches from my shocked face.

"Better watch yourself, little brother," a voice chuckled above me in the darkness. "You seem to be losing your touch with advancing age."

I set my jaw angrily and kicked the blade away with just a hint of my old poutiness. "You caught me in a moment of reflection," I explained stubbornly, pushing myself from the sand.

Peter's hand was there to help lift me up. "You know, being the best sword in the kingdom's not going to help you if it's that simple to catch you off guard."

"Thank you, my mentor," I mumbled, taking back my weapon and sliding it back into its sheath. Then I eyed my brother warily. "So you admit I'm the best sword."

He chuckled again and took a seat where I had been just moments before. "I'll indulge you, since it's your birthday." He motioned for me to join him. "But that doesn't mean your best in battle."

"I thought we promised to save these discussions for when Susan's around to be annoyed by them," I said, sitting beside him.

"Fair enough. Another time. I may even choose to forget this little blunder of yours, as a birthday gift."

I eyed him again. "I hope you got me something better than that."

"After your behavior today I'm not sure if you deserve anything other than a lump of coal."

"That's only relevant for Christmas, not birthdays," I objected quickly. "Besides, I've done nothing wrong today."

Peter cast me a sidelong glance.

"Okay, fine. Perhaps I should have suffered through in silence a bit better."

The corner of my brother's mouth turned up just the slightest. "Perhaps." He slid out of his boots and chucked them to the side. "Look Ed, I get it. You're tired. I understand. Do you honestly think I enjoy all this? Do you really think this was what I wanted when I took the throne? To shake hands, eat at the front of a crowded room, and listen to King Lune's royal agenda for five long hours? Do you really think _I_ haven't been faced with a few spoiled ladies with too much makeup and not enough brains?" I shrugged quietly, so he continued. "I mean, Susan may think you're being an idiot, but you know me. You know that's not what I think. You know I was the one who was more interested in the girl cleaning the Archenland palace's stables than I was in the King's niece. You know I was the one who escaped with you from the Tisroc's castle one night to visit a Tashbaan tavern while in disguise and play cards until sun-up."

I chuckled at the memory and looked over at my brother's face, half-veiled in darkness. He was laughing silently down at his feet, buried up to the ankles in pale sand. But then his face became more serious, and he lifted his eyes to mine. "But the sad truth is, Ed—it can't always be that way. We can't always be riding through the woods late at night, and we can't always be playing the hero in some fantastic battle. Sometimes it's about shaking hands with stiff-necked politicians, sometimes it's about humoring a girl that just steams your clams, and… sometimes it's about visiting a family of satyrs and telling them their father or husband or brother is never coming home. I know you know this as well as I, but maybe sometimes we just forget…. You know what I'm saying?"

I looked into his eyes for a moment, taking in every word. Then I felt my lips tingle in a smile. "Did you really just say 'steams your clams'?"

Peter let out a frustrated growl and shoved me roughly from the log with a roll of his eyes. I hit the ground again with a dull thud and a burst of laughter. Sometimes I'm really taken aback by how strong he is.

"Were you even listening?" he demanded, trying to suppress his laughter.

"I _was_! I was," I nodded once my chuckles began to subside. "It's just that… you sounded so _old._" I snorted out some laughter again as I stood.

"Sometimes you sound so _young_," he snapped, kicking sand onto my pants.

"You keep getting me all filthy, and Sue's really gonna have some steamed clams," I chortled, brushing off my silvery tunic. The girls always thought I looked best in silver. I always preferred to wear red. Dark red.

"Like you're really planning on going back to the banquet," Peter shook his head knowingly.

"I shouldn't have to," I pointed out. "I mean, it _is_ my birthday."

"So I keep hearing."

"Fight me," I said suddenly. My demand caught Pete off guard; he turned his head and frowned up at me curiously.

"Sorry?" he asked.

"Fight me," I repeated. "Just one quick duel. Please? All that talk about me being the best sword in the kingdom really got me going."

He chuckled again and re-buried his bare feet in the sand.

"Come on!" I pleaded, drawing my sword from my sheath. "Remember that time we were in a royal match for like forty minutes? And I was so winning, but I let you pin me at last? All because I could tell you kept looking over at the Archenlander with the pretty blonde curls?"

"I already thanked you for that. Remember last year? I didn't tell Susan it was you who caught Rabadash's favorite cape on fire?"

"That was hardly even my fault! I wore it _once_, and Tumnus was the one who forgot to put up the grate in front of his fireplace. I didn't even walk that close to the hearth. Plus… she's not dating the guy. She doesn't even _like_ him."

"Who does?"

"Exactly! So… what are we arguing about?"

"I forget."

"Good! So duel with me."

"Oh yeah," he sighed. "That was it."

"Just one short duel. No one is here to see you lose."

"You just want to feel better about me scaring the boots from your feet."

"I took those off myself," I objected. "And yes. I do. Happy? Now come on, stand up, Your Magnificence."

A final sigh, but I heard the surrender behind it. He was always planning on doing it anyway. Peter loved this as much as I did. The guy just loved to pretend for a few moments that he was High King, and not just some stupid kid with a crown. It's what we both were most of the time. Sometimes I honestly don't know what Aslan was thinking.

I smiled brightly, taking a few steps back as Peter took out his sword. Rhindon glittered perfectly in the starlight, and I felt that familiar surge of jealousy for his gift. It's okay. Maybe later tonight I could sneak into his room again and stash it somewhere good. It always drove him nuts when I did that. Maybe I'd put it in Lady Rosalie's frock. I snorted at my own stupid joke, and Peter looked at me strangely before taking his place a few paces away from me.

I tested my footing on the sand. I'd fought here before, but it always took some getting used to. "Did you hear what I said to Lady Rosalie about your dancing talents?"

"I did," he called across the sand, twirling his weapon skillfully in his fist. "And that's why I plan on beating you tonight."

I chuckled confidently. "Good luck Pete. Really, I'm rooting for you."

I usually made the first move in a duel; I was never good at waiting. This time was no different, and I sprinted across the beach to swing my heavy sword towards Peter's patient blade. I could feel the giddy grin on my face the whole time we dueled. It felt familiar. It felt like the time the royal ladies were watching us with excited whispers, like the time we rode through Aslan's camp on horseback before the Battle of Beruna, and like some distant time when it was just us with wooden swords in a room with purple-stripped wallpaper.

I had begun to corner my brother against a cove wall when he kicked a pile of sand into my face. Sputtering and throwing my arm against my burning eyes, I laughed softly and tried to listen for the direction of Peter's footsteps. But I was distracted by a sudden and sharp stab within my chest. It flashed up within a split-second, and was gone even sooner. I was hardly able to block Pete's next blow, sending a metallic clank echoing into the night, as I tried to return his enthusiastic cheer. I removed my arm from my eyes, and blinked away the sand. I could just see Peter through the blur of my vision, but then in another split-second he was replaced with a flash of chain mail and fur, and a glint of an icy crown. My insides squirmed, and I cried out softly in confusion, but Peter couldn't hear it over the crash of the waves and his own playful laughter.

My heart suddenly felt pierced by an icy stake, and I staggered backwards in pain, my head swimming. When I opened my eyes again, my vision was clear, and I saw Peter advancing towards me. My chest was on cold fire now, and I felt my cheeks burn with an anger that didn't seem to be my own. I clutched my sword tightly in my fist, and raised it high above my head with an inhuman howl. I saw the look in Peter's eyes the moment my blade crashed down on his, but I didn't care. Somehow I didn't care. My heart was hammering painfully with every swing of my weapon, and my eyes burning with the sting of tears.

"Ed?" my brother called, diving out of the way of yet another deadly blow. I heard the breath blow from his lungs as he hit the ground hard.

He was down. I could take him now.

I swung again, my shoulders screaming with the ferocity of every movement, but Peter somehow managed to roll on his side and kick my feet from under me. I fell to the sand, but was able to kick myself from my back into a crouched position within the blink of an eye. My body didn't even feel like it was mine anymore. But it felt good.

I lunged my blade forward as my brother attempted to stand. The tip dug into his thigh, and he cried out into the night and stumbled backwards. The cry felt familiar, and I began to picture Peter's face, younger and frightened, staring up at me from ground, my sword trapping him against the dirt as it sliced through his arm. I kicked him hard in the chest and sent him spiraling backwards, until he was looking up at me from the sand—as vulnerable and as frightened as he had just been in my memory. I expertly spun my weapon in my hand, savoring the moment, before aiming the tip of my blade right at his heaving chest.

I had a flash of a memory of golden fur and flashing eyes lunging towards me, before I felt myself tackled from the side in a heavy whirlwind of muscle and metal. Then all went black, and there was only the ebbing throb of ice in my chest.

*****

A/N: Thanks again guys! I promise to have more up soon. Any questions, please let me know.

Much love. Teek.


	3. The Stranger

A/N:::: Hey guys! I can't believe I'm finding time to update this much within one week! Thank you all soooo much for your awesome reviews so far! They really make my day :) This chapter's kind of a long one, so I hope you enjoy it. Yes, I know I kind of altered where Edmun'd gets stabbed by the White Witch in the Battle of Beruna (I make it more chest, less stomach) but this story is a combo of both the movie AND the book, and the book never says _where_ Edmund gets hurt. Just go with me on this one, okay?

Thanks again guys! Enjoy! Oh, and sorry if the writing's a bit rough-- it's almost midnight. Haha.

::::NIGHTFALL::::

THE STORY OF KING EDMUND THE JUST

:CHAPTER THREE:

THE STRANGER

It was that part of my dream when I shut my eyes. When Aslan's red drops of life are seeping into my very core, warming me to my fingertips. But I was struggling to open my eyes. I wanted to wake up before that terrible scream, before that final splinter of ice remained wedged within my heart, like a seed of evil nestled inside me. My temples were pounding, and I felt my eyes burning as I struggled with all my might to shoot my lids open.

For once, I wanted to end it on a good note.

The scream began, and I clutched my hands into shaking fists, but it soon melted into the sound of a train whistle, and I saw Peter looking at me in confusion just seconds before the world around me shattered in an explosion of grinding metal. But I wasn't afraid.

Then all went black, and I only heard a voice.

"Please listen to reason, Your Majesty," it said softly. "The others can stay with him until he awakes."

"I'm not leaving," I heard my brother growl determinedly. "I'm safe with him."

I kept my eyes shut, but listened carefully. Someone was brushing my hair from my forehead. It felt good.

"I'm sorry, Sire, but that's difficult for me to believe when I saw what I saw."

"You're not sure what you saw."

"I know that if I hadn't interceded in time, we all would have lost you. Until we get the full story from King Edmund, I think it's wise for you to wait in a safer location. And please take the Queens with you. I fear for their safety as well."

"We're not going anywhere," Lucy's voice was harder than I was used to hearing. It must have been her brushing my hair back, for the voice came from right above me.

"Thank you for your concern Oreius. And thank you for saving my brother… both of them," Susan's voice was weak and worried from across the room. "But we know Edmund, and we know we're safe here."

"Actually," Peter interjected, "If you and the others could step out for a moment, it would be deeply appreciated."

"Your Highness--"

"Please, Oreius."

There was a long moment of silence, then only the sounds of several sets of hooves clopping across the floor. I wasn't sure where I was in Cair Paravel; the blankets I lay on didn't feel like my own. The silence continued a few moments after I heard the door shut, and then Susan spoke again.

"You know they're right outside the door, right?" she asked softly.

"I know," Peter conceded. "But it's as good as I could get. I want to talk at least somewhat privately with my family."

"Peter, what happened?" Sue asked, her voice dripping with worry. Lucy just continued to soothe back my hair. It reminded me of that part in the dream with those doe-like brown eyes.

I could hear the head-shake in Peter's tone. "I have no idea. One moment we were just fooling around, and the next… something changed. Something inside him snapped."

"What were you doing down there anyway?" she demanded. "You just abandoned the dinner. King Lune had no idea where you had gone to!"

"He asked me to meet him. It was his _birthday_ Sue! And honestly, looking at Edmund lying there I couldn't care less what King Lune thinks!"

"Arguing won't help," Lucy said quietly. "Did he say anything to you, Peter?"

"Nothing. I tried to communicate with him once I sensed something was wrong, but--"

"What do you mean _sensed_? What changed? How could you tell?"

A moment of silence as he thought about it. I was curious as well. I wanted desperately to know what had happened. I remembered everything, but I didn't remember actually _wanting_ to do any of it. It was like remembering a play I had just seen, or a book I'd just read.

"Something in his eyes," Peter finally said. "They weren't Ed's. He always gets so competitive in those duels, but his eyes never lose their smile. And even in battle, Edmund always seems to maintain more of his humanity than any soldier we have fighting."

"Strange to hear when I recall him stating last year that his favorite target is the head," Susan snapped. I could easily picture her rolling her eyes.

"He _is_ violent. He's Edmund. He craves action, and he does what needs to be done. But I see it in his face, Susan. Every time he holds a sword. I always look to him in battle, because something in his eyes is more certain and more comforting than anything else. Tonight was different. The smile was gone, the humanity was gone, and he was just… a machine."

I heard a deep inhalation of breath. "What do we do now?" Lucy asked shakily.

"We need to speak to Edmund," Peter stated. "When he wakes up. We won't know what we're dealing with until we hear his side of the story."

"I hate to say it…" Susan began, "But are we sure that it really _will _be Edmund when he wakes up?"

"It is," Lucy said. "I know his sleeping face."

"Lucy…"

"I do."

It was quiet again for a minute, and I heard whispered footsteps tap on the stone floor, and then felt Susan's cool, thin hand slip into mine.

"I don't know what to do," she murmured. She sounded heart-broken.

"You two are going to go to bed," Peter commanded gently. "I'll stay with him tonight."

"We're not leaving you," she snapped impatiently.

"You _are._ You both told Oreius that you felt safe with Edmund. Why should I feel any different?" Quiet followed, so he spoke again. "If you both truly meant what you said, then you'll get some much-needed sleep, and leave me with my brother."

I thought he was going to have to argue with them further, but soon I felt Sue give my hand a final squeeze before releasing and walking slowly to the door. I felt Lu's lips on my feverish forehead as well as I heard Peter mumble a sincere thank you and felt him sit down on my bedside just as she stood up. It was comforting. Even with the heavy weight of confusion and despair currently bearing down on me, I suddenly felt a surge of love—a feeling that I wasn't alone.

Once the door shut again, I just lay there and listened to Peter's thoughtful breathing. I was so tempted to open my eyes. To see where I was, so look at his face, to ask him what happened, although I'm sure his answer would be just as clueless as mine. But at the same time, I wanted to remain in my state of feigned sleep. As long as my brother thought I was asleep, we didn't have to discuss anything. There were no scary questions, no guilty thoughts, no worried expressions… there was just the sound of his breathing and the whistling of the wind through whatever window was open.

I remembered the first time I felt this way. I was drifting to sleep in my hammock, finally letting my aching body relax in the comfort of the tent in Aslan's camp. The witch's scars were still searing my skin and burning my insides, but at the moment I was safe. The light was a midnight purple, and the air smelled like blossoms and new grass. Beside me in the darkness was Peter, swinging silently in his hammock, and breathing deeply. Every fiber of me wanted to sleep, but something deeper prevented my slumber. I just lay there, breathing in Narnia's nighttime wind, and mulling over Aslan's words to me early that morning atop the hill. At one point, Peter's breathing changed, and I heard him stir. He was awake, and tossing in his hammock. I remembered smiling to myself. I liked knowing we were both awake, and laying together in silence. I liked knowing we were in this together.

And then the images in my head shifted, and I knew I was dreaming. But this time there was no familiar explosion, no feel of my brother's protective grip. This time I was shackled and beaten, curled up on the stinging ice of Jadis's dungeon. Mr. Tumnus was looking at me with sad eyes, and the witch was standing high above me, like a pointed mountain of ice.

No. Not here. My dream never started here.

I tried handing Tumnus a meager handful of my stale bread, but he just looked at me. My hand continued to stretch out to him, but his eyes just stared into mine, sad and pitying. Finally Jadis kicked my hand aside, and the bread went rolling across the icy floor. The dwarf Ginabrik picked it off the floor. It turned into Turkish delight in his hand, and he smiled coldly at me before popping it into his mouth.

"Your blood is my property," she hissed, her voice echoing off the walls. "Every traitor belongs to me."

I just shook my head in silent horror, and then she turned to Tumnus, approaching him with deadly grace, and raising her wand.

He just continued to look at me. "I'm not like my father at all," he confessed. "It's sad when you can't follow in the right footsteps."

The last word had hardly escaped his lips when the wand struck, and Tumnus was frozen forever, with those sad eyes permanently carved into his stone face.

"No!" I screamed, but Jadis hit me with the blunt end of her wand. I could taste the blood perfectly, even though it was only a dream… right?

When I lifted my gaze again, she had lowered herself to my level, her pale eyes boring into mine. When her breath hit my face, it was like frostbite.

"Ready my sleigh," she told her servant, then her lips curved into a horrible smile. "Edmund misses his family…."

My hands flew towards her, clawing at her beautiful face, and I felt a terrible swell of curses gurgling in my throat. I screamed out, flailing my limbs, clanking my shackles against the floor like a wild animal. My fingers managed to close around her neck, and I felt my nails digging into her icy skin.

"Don't you touch them!" I screamed, my head felt on fire, my chest felt like ice. "Don't go near them! I'm the one you want! It's _me_! My fault!"

"Edmund!" she screamed out in shock. I relished the fear in her eyes, and tightened my grip.

"You're nothing but ice!" I growled. "And you can't be that hard to shatter."

"Your Highness!" The voice belonged to neither me, nor Jadis. It was deeper, exotic, and very panicked. I felt a pair of iron-strong hands grasp my arms and shove them away, pinning my limbs to the bed. The bed?

I shot my eyes open, sweat pouring down my face, and a chill throbbing once more in my heart. Oreius and one of his sergeants were holding me down against the mattress, shouting for help, and trying to call me back to my senses. The third centaur guard was just a few paces back, trying to restrain a human figure from running to me.

Suddenly the chill in my chest was turning to a panicked fire, for standing there against the wall, eyes wide with shock and worry, griping the bloody scrapes on his neck, and watching me yield to the guards, was my brother.

******

Always the same. Always. The dream had never changed. But tonight my dream had been different. Instead of knowing Aslan was standing protectively over me, it had been Jadis, crowing over her malicious victory. Instead of feeling my siblings gathering me into a relived embrace, I only felt the witch's icy skin beneath my constricting fingertips. But it hadn't been Jadis. It was Peter. For the second time in one night, I'd hurt my brother.

The pain was almost too much to bear. There was no denying I was awake now, so it was time to face this thing head-on. I was sitting up in bed, but the time Lucy was not beside me, stroking my hair. Instead she was standing beside the open window of Peter's room; both she and Susan were in their dressing gowns and their eyes perfectly round in concern. Lu was tugging on her braid nervously, as I'd seen her do a thousand times before—but this time it was _my_ fault. Susan was sitting on an ornate chair in the corner, her pale face contrasting beautifully with its forest green velvet cushions. Peter stood the closest to me, just a few feet from my bedside, still in his royal attire from the banquet, and obviously trying _not_ to rub at his neck, all inflamed and punctured with the awful marks that came from _my_ fingernails.

I wanted to throw up.

But we were not the only ones in the room anymore. Oreius and his two soldiers were watching us like hawks again, hands on the hilts of their swords, and eyes narrowing in on me. Oreius looked just like that the day I'd been rescued from the Witch's camp. I had never wanted to have him look at me like that again. Six years… building up his trust, forming a friendship, leading him through battle, and it all came tumbling down within the space of one night. I guess you walk a thin line… after you've been marked a traitor.

The urge to vomit increased dramatically.

"But this new dream didn't come until _after_ tonight's duel, correct?" Peter asked me. His voice sounded scared, concerned, and desperate for answers. How I wished I could give some better ones to him.

"Right," I nodded bleakly. "But this morning I felt a little different," I admitted.

"After your regular dream?" he pressed. Peter knew that dream all too well.

I nodded again. "I felt… _colder_. But that was it. Hardly any change."

"And you felt nothing worse when you were hunting with the wolves?"

"No."

"It wasn't until you were fighting me?"

I really just wanted to escape this subject. "Right," I mumbled. We'd been over this a thousand times already, and every time it was like pouring salt into my eyes. "I don't know what happened," I said again. "I was me one second, and the next… I wasn't."

"And what about just now? Was that the same thing?"

I shook my spinning head. "That was just a dream. It got out of control. I didn't know it was you," I finished in a pleading tone.

"I know that, Ed," he tried to offer me a smile. "Everyone here knows it's not your fault. We're just trying to get to the bottom of what's eating you."

I just blew out a sigh and buried my face in my hands.

"I think Edmund needs some rest," Susan said, speaking for the first time in ages. "Let's take this outside."

"I don't need you guys talking about me while I'm sleeping," I snapped, my first traces of defensiveness surfacing. My brother and sister eyed me sympathetically.

"We're not talking about you," Lucy promised, walking closer to my side. "We just want you to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

"It almost _is_ morning," Peter observed with a tired sigh. "The girls are right, Ed. We'll figure this out—but for the time being, I really think you just need sleep."

No one argued to stay up with me this time. My insides churned, and I felt that new familiar ice flare up inside of me as all of them offered me little goodbyes and good nights before walking out of the room. The guards were the last ones to leave. I let out a desperate groan and threw my head back onto the pillow. Then I heard voices coming from just outside the door, and tossed aside the covers to leap from bed. My head spun a bit the moment my feet touched the floor, but I just shook it off and walked silently to the large oak door.

"You need sleep just as much as your brother, Sire," Oreius was saying in whispers. "Please get some rest."

"That's _my_ bedroom," he whispered harshly. "I should be able to go in there if I please."

"You know it gives me no pleasure opposing you, King Peter. But I was correct before in my belief that you should not be left alone with King Edmund."

"He's my brother."

"For your safety, Your Highness, I cannot let you spend the night in this room. Unless you would like us to relocate King Edmund to his own quarters."

Now Peter's voice was truly a growl. "I'm not going to do that."

"Then I ask that you please, Sire, please heed my advice and sleep in one of the guest suites. Or even your brother's room?"

I heard Peter's breath blow out noisily. "He's just going through something. He's not dangerous."

I pressed my ear against the door, as Oreius's next words were the softest yet. "High King," he said sadly, "He was touched by the Ice Queen. Only Aslan Himself can truly begin to comprehend just what scars will always lay beneath the surface."

I heard very little after that. I think Peter mumbled something in resignation, but I was sliding down the length of the door and onto the floor. The stone was cold and hard, and as I curled my knees up against my chest, I was suddenly reminded of the icy dungeon, which I had revisited in my sleeping mind only moments ago. Recalling it again was like an electric shock, and I quickly shot back to my feet.

My breath was tumbling chaotically in my chest, and I was past wanting to vomit now. Now I was fighting the urge to simply pass out. Scars? What scars? No! I was _done_ with this! It was _over_! Aslan had died so I could live! Aslan had satisfied the deep magic, Aslan had killed the Witch! It was six years later… I was King Edmund the Just—not the youngest Pevensie brother sitting alone in a freezing cell. The only scars I was supposed to have were the ones in my dreams… and the small, silvery line that stretched just below my heart. The scar from the wand that had been thrust into my chest on the battlefield of Beruna.

I rubbed my hand distractedly over my heart as I stood just outside Peter's balcony. The sky was still dark, but a thin line of rose stretched across the horizon, just behind the mountains of the Archenland border. So much of me wanted Peter to return to his room, to sneak past Oreius and sit out here with me, watching the sun rise. We could laugh about the look on Lady Rosalie's face when I'd left her with her mouth gaping, waiting for a forkful of tart that wouldn't come. But then Oreius's words came floating into my mind…. _For your own safety_.

It was true. As long as Peter was left alone with me… he wasn't safe. Were any of my siblings safe? Would Lucy have been able to avoid my skillful blows on the beach as well as Peter had? We all knew that Susan couldn't. Unless it was an archery match, my older sister would be as good as dead if I had come at her like that. I thought of Susan slipping her hand into mine as she thought I was sleeping, and the thought of doing anything to hurt her turned my insides to stone.

Six years ago I almost destroyed all their lives… I was not about to do it again. At the same time, the thought of being away from them was like ripping out one of my organs. I raked a hand through my disheveled hair and paced in front of the balcony.

"Please Aslan," I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut. "Please tell me what to do. I wasn't willing to ask six years ago. I am now."

There was no answer. Not really. A strong gust of summer wind kissed my face, and sometimes I felt like things like that were Aslan's way of staying with us—but I really wasn't feeling perceptive enough to understand what that would mean. But the taste of the breeze had enough of an effect to draw me out the open doors and onto the balcony. The wind felt so refreshing on my burning face, and the cool marble floor was so nice on my bare feet. I leaned against the railing and looked out over the land. _My_ land. My Narnia. I could get lost in those rolling hills of thick trees, and those stretching plains of waving feather-grass. Maybe that was the answer I was looking for. Maybe I simply needed to be swallowed whole by my home, by the forests and meadows, the rivers and hills. Maybe Aslan was calling me out, away from the prying eyes of the guards, away from the Archenland court, and away from the dangerous closeness of my family. I could simply take that first step into the wilderness. My earliest memories of my home somehow always came back to the deepest hollows of the Western Wood. I could once again return to its embrace, and the answers would somehow all unfold. Maybe it was that easy.

_Maybe_.

I almost jumped into the air. A voice had echoed in my head, as clear and undeniable as Peter's had been just moments ago. But it wasn't Peter. And it wasn't Aslan. But I also knew it wasn't Jadis, and that was enough to keep my fear at bay.

"Hello?" I called softly into the night. I didn't want to alert Oreius, who was without a doubt standing just outside the door. But no one replied.

_Hello?_ I thought as hard as I could.

_Hello._

I definitely jumped this time. _Hello?_ I asked in disbelief.

I swear I heard a mental sigh. _Are you always this interesting to talk to?_

It was a male voice. A beautiful male voice, if I could believe myself to actually be thinking that. It was melodic and light, and listening to it had a strange calming effect on my mind, even with its perplexing origin.

_Who __**are**__ you?_ I demanded.

The mental voice ignored my question. _Are you the one I was sent for?_ it asked.

_I doubt it!_ I couldn't believe I was having an argument within my own head. _I don't even know who you are_!

There was a long stretch of silence, as if the stranger was deliberating.

_Hello?_ I called out again.

_Again, hello_, it replied sarcastically.

_So who __**are **__you?_ I asked again.

_Maybe you're right,_ he said suddenly.

_About what_?

_Maybe the answers are out there somewhere._

I furrowed my brow thoughtfully. This whole conversation was making my head spin. But for the first time all day, I felt the iciness within my chest subsiding just a little. I chewed thoughtfully on my lower lip, and brushed my hair from my eyes. The line of rose on the horizon was becoming slightly thicker, but dawn was still a good ways away.

_Where are you?_ I asked, trying another question and hoping for a better response.

_Beside the sea._

I blew out a resolute sigh, and pushed myself away from the balcony railing and into Pete's room. By the soft light of the candles on the wall, I threw my boots back onto my feet. I realized that I was still dressed in that awful silver tunic, so I peeled it off over my head and ran to my brother's wardrobe. Throwing it open I moaned a little in distress. His selection was nothing like mine—his clothes a little bit more on the _magnificent _side. My brother had some of the best armor, but I could definitely do without his taste in tunics. Finally I spotted a plain leather jerkin, and was able to throw that over a simple white shirt.

I left my crown where it sat on Peter's end table. I needed a weapon. As I began to search through his small trunk of weaponry, a worry buzzed in my brain. What if Peter returned to his room to find me missing? What if he immediately feared the worst? Of course he'd fear the worse—he was Peter.

My lower lip was going to bleed from chewing on it so much in thought. I could write him a note—but after gazing around his room, I realized I had no idea where to find a piece of parchment. Or a pen. Nor would I have any idea what to say.

I needed to give him a sign. Something to show that I left of my own accord. Something to prove that I was okay, and that I was still Edmund—not the stranger from the beach duel. I needed….

Rhindon.

With a slightly dark chuckle, I withdrew the shining sword from the chest, turning it admiringly in my hand, and thinking it was high-time Pete and I played this game again.

I went back out to the balcony. Thank Aslan the stonework around Peter's room had the same moldings as mine. The climb down would be difficult, but far from impossible. I looked one final time into Narnia's moonlit landscape, and took one more deep drink of the air. It filled me up, and I could smell the moon again.

I slid Rhindon determinedly into my sheath, and mentally muttered two words.

_I'm coming._

******

A/N:::: There you go! I hope it was enjoyable. And yes, I _am_ going somewhere with this story, lol. I'll definately try to update soon, because I'm really looking forward to this new character I'm about to introduce. I'd love to hear anybody's theories. If you get it right, I'll name a character after you (but good luck-- it's a toughy).

Oh, and did you catch the "Last Battle" refrence in Edmund's first dream of the chapter? ;)

Till next time-- keep imagining. ~Teek~


	4. Similar Scars and The Choice

A/N:::: Okay, so I'm on a roll, but DON'T expect me to always update once a day. I really hope you guys are enjoying the story, and thank you all for your great reviews so far. I'm not sure, but for some reason this story doesnt seem to be appearing in the "just in" section of when I upload a new chapter, so luckily I at least have my faithful subscribers and past-readers to enjoy and review for me. :)

Not my longest chapter yet, but I definately really enjoyed writing this one, so I hope you will too. Please note this story is going to be LONG, and it's going to be packed with my original characters and characters from Lewis's wonderful imagination. A lot's going to happen, you guys-- so sit back, enjoy, and know that this is only the beginning.....

Without further ado:

::::NIGHTFALL::::

THE STORY OF KING EDMUND THE JUST

:CHAPTER FOUR:

SIMILAR SCARS AND THE CHOICE

With the hilt of Peter's sword held securely in my grip, I walked down the steep winding path to the shore. It was funny to think that I had walked this very path in the dark only hours ago. It felt like a lifetime before that duel with my brother.

My heart was hammering in my chest as I drew nearer to the rumbling waves. True, the stranger never actually stated that he was beside _this_ part of the sea. But I had to start somewhere, and something inside me was drawing me here. The sound of his gentle, light, and slightly sarcastic voice was still ringing in my head, and it was the only thing that was soothing my worries at the moment.

When I got to the base of the hill I turned and looked back up at my home. Even so early in the morning, Cair Paravel didn't look asleep. Firelight was winking in the darkness from dozens of scattered windows and open archways. I could even see the lamps that lit the way through the gardens at the edge of the cliff. But I didn't see anyone chasing after me, so that was good. It was only a matter of time until someone walked into Peter's room though… and once they did I was sure to be followed with great urgency.

Whatever I was hoping to accomplish, I had to do it soon.

I was still griping Rhindon's hilt as I warily stepped out onto the sandy shore. It was empty. There was just the moonlight bouncing off the tumbling foam of the waves, and a single sandpiper skipping across the wet sand. I walked slowly across the beach, just within reach of the surf, which kept lapping up against my boots. I couldn't deny that I was disappointed, but at least I was escaping for the time being—until my older siblings found me and boxed my ears for wandering off yet again. King or not, I'd never escape their retribution.

I stopped with a heavy sigh and gazed down at the sand. You could still see the marks from our duel. I could see exactly where Peter had fallen on his back, and exactly where Oreius had tackled me to the ground. I angrily kicked the disturbed sand into the air; it sparkled in the moonlight. I unsheathed Rhindon and swung it absent-mindedly, listening to it slice through the air. It felt good in my hand. All of Peter's blessings—and all I'd ever really envy of his was this sword.

"You any good with that?" a voice asked from behind me. Not _a_ voice… _the_ voice. I spun around in embarrassing fear, holding Rhindon at the ready, my chest constricting.

But there was nothing behind me. The forest was just a few yards away, and anything could be hiding in its shadows.

"I've been known to dabble in swordplay," I remarked dryly, my eyes darting towards every dark corner of the beach.

"I can't tell if that's modesty or a poor attempt at sarcasm," it replied. It was strange hearing the voice out loud, not echoing in my head.

"Well we can't all be as skilled in sarcasm as you appear to be," I grunted. "Feel free to show yourself anytime."

I could hear the smile in his voice. "I actually think I might like you," he confessed.

"Yay," I answered unenthusiastically. "Why have you contacted me?"

"_You_ asked where _I_ was, remember?"

"Because you wouldn't answer any of my questions. And because you spoke to me first."

"I heard your thoughts," he explained simply. "I thought I'd put in my two cents. Most tell me that's a problem I have."

I frowned. "Invading other people's thoughts?"

"No," he replied. "Putting in my two cents."

I actually chuckled there, but still held my sword steadily.

"Are you expecting me?" he asked with just a small ounce of uncertainty.

I frowned again. "No. I'm not expecting anyone. …why?"

I heard him sigh. "Well I'm supposed to meet _somebody_ here. Since your thoughts were the first I caught, I thought maybe it was you."

"Why do you think you need to meet someone here?"

"I never know why. I just know."

This conversation was even more infuriating than the first, but I still couldn't bring myself to end it. "Do you know what you're supposed to do with them once you find them?"

There was a slight pause. "I'm not sure if I'm entitled to say… if you're not the one I'm supposed to meet."

"Can you at least show yourself? Talking to nobody is even more frustrating when the voice _isn't_ in your head."

There was no response for a while, and at first I thought perhaps he'd left, but then I heard heavy footsteps and the sounds of the forest parting just in front of me. I shifted anxiously on the sand and waited, trying to keep my breath steady. I don't know why I felt like such a coward… the events of the past twenty-four hours apparently had me quite on-edge.

And then he stepped into the moonlight.

He was a glowing shade of white, like the foam caps of the sea. His eyes were a deep golden color, and sparkled with wit and dry sarcasm. His hair was pale and thick, and floated on the night wind. His only imperfection was a deep scar that cut across his forehead.

"You're a horse." I stated in awe.

Suddenly his smiling eyes grew darker, and he stamped at the sand with an angry snort.

_I am __**not **__a horse!_ he shouted inside my head. Once again my mind buzzed with the sound of his voice. I took one step back and continued to gaze at him with saucer eyes.

"I am a unicorn," he finished, more calmly this time.

I frowned. "How can you be--?"

"Obviously, it's missing," he replied, sharply. "No need to ask what you are. Weak legs, strange posture, and your only fur being a strange mop atop your head. Human is it?"

I blew out a chuckle. "You guessed it."

"Not many Son of Adams in Narnia," he mulled. "Do you come from Archenland?"

That took me by surprise. Apparently he had no idea who I was. A strange find this side of my kingdom. A strange find anywhere, to be honest. "I do not," I replied slowly. "I come from a distant land. But I've lived here long."

"Can't be that long," he eyed me carefully. "Aren't you still a bit small?"

"I am not small," I snapped indignantly, in the same tone he'd used when I'd called him a horse. "And I've been here long enough."

He took a few steps closer and examined me closely. He was right… there was no _way_ he could be a horse. His fur was like starlight, and his mane like spun silver. He was no larger than your average horse, but something about him seemed bigger. Even a Talking Horse as noble as Phillip did not have that kind of spark in his eyes. Their light, caramel color gave him a sort of wild, eccentric expression, but with more intelligence than I'd ever seen in any Talking Beast. In any_thing_ for that matter, aside from one special individual.

"Are you sure you weren't expecting anyone?" he asked me, almost pressing his pink nose to my face.

"I'm beginning to wonder…" I muttered. It was a shame for such a perfect face to be marred by such a gnarled scar, but somehow it also gave him more of a presence. The scar was like a silvery gash that cut just below the crown of his head, and ran down at a slant to almost hit his left eye. It reminded me of the one on my chest, but this one shimmered much more. I guess everything looks more beautiful on a unicorn. I couldn't even begin to imagine his degree of perfection when he had a horn—a curved blade of indigo, or a twisted spire of shining ivory. I realized he was watching me stare at his forehead, and looked down at my feet in embarrassment.

"How… um… how did it happen?" I asked meekly.

"Not sure," he replied with a heavy voice. "A lot vanishes when a unicorn loses its horn—my memories included."

"You don't remember anything?"

"Not enough to share," he said shortly, but there was no anger in his voice. Then he turned and began walking along the water's edge, leaving half-moon hoof prints along the sand. I didn't know if he was leaving or just strolling, but I couldn't imagine saying goodbye yet.

"Wait!" I called, and started jogging after him.

The unicorn turned and watched me come. "For what?"

I finally put away Rhindon when I came to a halt beside him. "What are you looking for?" I asked.

"My strongest instinct says _you_, small one. But if you're not expecting anyone, then I guess I better continue my walk."

"What if I _am_ expecting someone?" I asked desperately.

I can't describe the face of a unicorn when it frowns thoughtfully, but something deep in his eyes changed, and I watched as his wide nostrils flared in contemplation.

"Would you tell me what we were supposed to do?" I asked him.

He thought for a second more. "We travel northwest," he replied.

"Why?"

I also can't describe a unicorn's face when he smiles in dry humor… but it's something to observe. "I never know why," he said. "I just know."

"Do you get these visions a lot?" I frowned. "How much of my mind can you read? How long have you been traveling?"

"You assume a lot," he sighed. "And ask even more. If you're meant to come with me, then stop talking and start walking. But if you're not in earnest, then please return home. To answer your final question, I've been traveling for a long time, and will be very irked to learn that you've been wasting my time."

I blinked in slight surprise. It was strange to be talked to this way. I was King Edmund. I was normally either addressed exceedingly politely by my subjects, or verbally abused by my enemies. This was something in between. It was actually refreshing.

"I'm the one," I replied, with more certainty than I'd felt in a long time. I didn't even know what I meant, but I meant it.

Now he smiled sincerely. It was beautiful. This wasn't just a unicorn. He was something different.

"Can we leave now?" I asked. "And quickly? I kind of need to keep one step ahead of somebody." _Or an entire royal court_, I thought wryly, but then cringed internally, hoping he hadn't heard that thought. But the unicorn did not comment on it, so I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'd have it no other way," he agreed, and spun on his heels, to walk away from the moon, to the northwest.

I paused just before we reached the mouth of the forest. Before leaving the open, and becoming swallowed by the wilderness, I wanted to look once more at Cair Paravel. The rosy fingers of dawn were just beginning to stroke its cream-colored walls, and I could even see Lucy's window clearly from where I stood. I was already a good kilometer away, but somehow I felt even further. I pictured my family sitting out on the patio for breakfast the morning before, and a bittersweet smile spread across my face. Not from them, though. I was taking them with me.

"Almost done?" the unicorn asked me, snapping me from my revere. I spun around to see him standing there, half immersed in the cavernous shadows of the forest.

I looked up one more time at my palace, feeling the familiar fear swelling up in my throat. "What are you called?" I asked him, silently deciding not to turn my eyes from its windows until I heard an honest answer,

_Jasper_, he said softly in my head. _My name is Jasper._

_******_

We didn't walk long. I had been running on adrenaline for so long that it wasn't until we were quietly trekking through the cool, dark outskirts of the Western Woods that fatigue finally began to take hold of me. I became so tired that even with my extensive knowledge of these woods, I was uncertain as to where we were. But Jasper was walking with such resolute determination that I didn't dare question his direction.

"I'm not sure what you're running from," he finally spoke, breaking the long-term silence, "But have we gone far enough for you to actually lie down for a while? You look like a faun after a long night drinking."

I managed a small grin. "I could definitely use a rest," I nodded with a yawn. I looked around at the trees. Nothing seemed familiar. "I suppose we can rest for a while."

"You're not doing me any favor," Jasper remarked. "It's just that it's bad enough walking beside a two-legger when they're _not_ falling over."

"You know, I wasn't so exhausted until I met _you_," I snapped, but my voice held enough lightness to make him chuckle.

_Here is good,_ he paused in a slight clearing. I jumped a little. It was impossible to guess when he was going to speak verbally, or mentally. Each time he switched it caught me by surprise. "You can curl up here for a few hours," he said.

The first rays of the sun were just beginning to break through the gaps in the treetops, and the mossy forest floor was glowing in the pink light of dawn. I tenderly knelt onto the earth, and as I peeled off my jerkin to pillow my head, the ground shook the slightest.

"I thought you didn't need to rest!" I objected, as Jasper began to lower his heavy body beside me.

He looked up indignantly. "Just because I don't _need_ to, it doesn't mean I wouldn't enjoy a decent nap. When you live as long as we do, you get a little tired now and then."

I chuckled at his defensive tone, and rested my heavy head. The tree frogs were laughing at one another in the cool woods, and the pollen floating on the air would glow momentarily like burning ashes as it drifted through the rays of sunshine. I didn't know much about my far past, but I knew that there was some time, some_where_, when falling asleep in an enchanted forest beside a telepathic unicorn just wasn't a possibility.

"Sweet dreams, Jasper," I mumbled, closing my eyes.

_I'll try_, he promised.

I certainly related to that sentiment, and finally let myself fall asleep. That was when I discovered yet another of Jasper's gifts.

******

_It started with a lamppost. Just a single lamppost burning in nothing but darkness. I kept looking around it for more, but there was nothing. I couldn't even see myself. But then I watched as a strong hand reached up to turn a small switch on its iron frame. Suddenly light flooded the darkness, and I was laying chin-deep in blankets. I was in bed, surrounded by books, toy soldiers, and blue and chocolate wallpaper._

"_Can't sleep, Kiddo?" the light-bringer asked me, approaching me from the nightlight hanging on the wall._

_I shook my head. "Not when you're leaving."_

"_I have to go, Edmund. But I promise I'll come racing right back to you. Imagine all the things I can bring you—from the strangest corners of the world. More treasures to add to your collection."_

_I sat up in bed. "Will you bring something extra special for me? Something even Peter doesn't know about?"_

_He chuckled. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair like mine, and pale eyes like Pete. He had Lucy's smile, and Susan's eyebrows. "I can definitely do that," he nodded. "But there's no need for you to want anything Peter doesn't have. You two are in this together. He loves you, Edmund."_

_I shrugged. "I know that," I confessed. "It's not about that."_

_He smiled and kissed my forehead. "I'll bring you back something special," he promised._

"_Thank you," I sighed, and reached my arms around his neck._

"_But can you do something for me in return?" he asked, mumbling into my shoulder._

"_Anything," I promised. He pulled away slightly to look me in the eye. His stare was so honest __it was chilling. _

"_Don't tell her anything," he pleaded softly. And in the blink of an eye I was cowering again on the dungeon floor, with Jadis's wand aimed right at my chest._

"_Then you're of no further use to me," she hissed._

"NO!" I screamed, and shot bolt upright. There was a terrible racket of tossing leaves and snapping twigs as my companion was startled from his slumber and struggled to stand up.

"What happened?" Jasper shouted, nostrils flaring in a frightened pant and eyes looking even more wild than usual.

I placed a hand over my heart to calm my breathing, but the chill hadn't grown any worse overnight. The sun was completely awake now, and the forest bathed in a sparkling, green light.

I stood from the moss and stared at the unicorn with wide eyes. "How did you do that?" I demanded breathlessly.

He frowned. "Do what?"

"Change my dream like that. I know that was you. I've never had a dream like that in my entire life."

He shook his head, tossing his mane to and fro. "That wasn't me," he said.

"I know it was," I glared. I'm sure my face was as stubborn as my siblings always said it could be.

"You have no reason to believe I had anything to do with whatever happened in your sleep."

I smiled ironically. "I don't need reason. Sometimes… I just know."

He smirked, as a unicorn smirks. _Clever_, he quipped.

I grinned in reply, and scooped my jerkin from the ground. _What did you see?_ Jasper asked me, as I slid it on.

I secured my clothing slowly, thinking. "I think I saw my father," I said quietly.

"Where is he now?"

I turned to face him, and shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really remember my parents. I don't really remember much of anything too far back."

Jasper's eyes widened as he raised his brow, and he lowered his head to scratch his nose against his foreleg. _Looks like we have more in common than I would have guessed._

I nodded solemnly. _Looks like,_ I thought—though I was unsure if he could hear my mental voice as clearly as I could hear his.

We'd only been walking a few minutes through the woods when he asked his next question.

"What was your father doing in your dream?"

I was playing with Rhindon again, swinging it casually through the air as we walked. My swing felt stronger than it had when Jasper and I first met. My short slumber had definitely helped. "Saying goodbye," I recalled. "I'm not sure where he was going, but I have a feeling I never saw him again."

"Were you smaller then?"

I nodded. "Much."

_Why did you wake up screaming?_

I looked up to face Jasper. He reached up to grab a mouthful of leaves without breaking his stride.

"Maybe you should answer a few of my questions before I answer all of yours," I suggested.

He crunched thoughtfully on the foliage. _Maybe_, he said, repeating the first words I'd ever heard him say.

"Can all unicorns read thoughts like you can?" I asked. "I've known several unicorns, and none of them ever seemed to read my mind."

"I cannot read your mind," he corrected. "I didn't ask what you saw in your dream to be polite. I can only sense things that somehow are connected to me, to my destiny. At least, that's what my theory has come to be." He cast me a sidelong glance with a slight smile in his eyes. "It's sort of a selfish ability, when you think about it."

I frowned. "Then how could you read my thoughts when I was thinking of escaping into the wilderness?"

"It is that question that led me to believe you were expecting me," he pointed out.

"Have you ever influenced other people's dreams before?" I inquired.

"I've never thought to ask," he replied shortly. "Though I imagine I've influenced the dreams of a few lovely unicorns over the years."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Clever." I gave Pete's sword another swing. I hadn't anticipated embarking on such a journey. If he wasn't already furious about me vanishing, his missing sword was certainly going to 'steam his clams'. I chuckled at his past words, but then a feeling of sadness swept over me as I thought of my siblings, worried about me back at the castle. But at least they were safe… for now.

"I never thought to ask what you are called," Jasper interrupted my thought, and I came back to the present.

I almost told him my name right there, but then thought better of it. I kind of liked him not knowing my royal status, and though he did not know my face, there was a high chance he'd recognize my name.

"Ed," I replied. I always hated that nickname, which was why it was always Peter's favorite. But I wasn't feeling creative enough to invent an alias. At least one that didn't _sound_ like an alias.

_Ed?_ he repeated mentally, and whinnied in what I guessed was a small laugh.

"Thanks a lot, _Jasper_," I snapped. And the others thought _I_ was difficult to travel with. I caught myself looking again at the nasty scar running across Jasper's snowy face. The lack of moonlight did nothing to diminish his perfection; the sunlight caught in his mane like fireflies in a spider web. "How old are you, Jasper?" I asked.

"I think we can give this game a rest for now, Ed," he replied. "But I can offer you an apology."

I raised my eyebrows. "What for?"

"For lying to you."

I felt my heart race just a little. "About what?"

"I may not have known what your entire dream was about," he began, "But I know why you screamed."

I slowed my pace. "And why would you know that?"

"I told you," he sighed. "I can read things that are linked to my destiny. And now, thanks to you, I know why we're heading northwest."

The quiet of the forest was deafening. Suddenly every bird, every frog, and every whisper of the leaves, was ringing in my ears. Though I had slowed, Jasper continued his steady pace, and did not falter when I fell behind. "Why?" I called after him. "What did you see? Where are we _going_?"

His next words were spoken in my head, and they brought me to a full stop.

_Jadis's castle._

_******_

A/N:::: Thank you guys so much! Hope you enjoyed it, and this time I REALLY want to hear your thoughts. What do you think of Jasper? Love him? Hate him? Unsure? Let me know! Any theories? And don't fret-- we have not seen the last of Ed's siblings. I love them too much to leave them at Cair Paravel... sad... worried... all alone... without a narrator.... The horror!

Anyway, I'll be sure to update soon. You guys rock. Thanks so much for your involvement.

~Tiki~


	5. TraitorTurnedKing & EternalUnicorn

A/N:::: Thank you all SO much for your awesome reviews. They really make my day, and really urge me to update quickly. I'm so glad that so many of you seem to like Jasper. Well without further ado-- here is chapter four. Enjoy you guys!

::::NIGHTFALL::::

THE STORY OF KING EDMUND THE JUST

:CHAPTER FIVE:

THE TRAITOR-TURNED-KING AND THE ETERNAL-UNICORN

Jasper and I hadn't spoken much by the time the sun was setting. I kept asking questions that he refused to answer, so I eventually gave up. I didn't like knowing that I was walking back there. I never wanted to go back there. But I knew that if I stopped, Jasper would keep going… and I couldn't let that happen. He knew something I didn't.

_Actually, I know lots of things you don't,_ he chuckled into my mind. It startled me.

"Don't _do_ that!" I snapped angrily, trying to calm my rapidly beating heart.

"I told you, I can't help it. It's not like I _pick_ when to invade your thoughts. It just happens. Maybe you should stop thinking about me. Stop thinking about our journey. You worry too much."

I snorted in disbelief. It was the first time I could remember anyone telling me that. My family _and_ the entire kingdom always made a point to mention how I didn't worry _enough_. I blew out a shaky breath. I missed them. So much my chest hurt. I hated to think of them worrying about me, after staying up the entire night to keep me safe and keep me company. It reminded me too heavily of the time they'd trekked across the wilderness, just to save me from my own wrong-doings.

But this was different, I told myself as I watched my feet stumble over the rough forest floor. This was different.

"Hey…" Jasper had finally paused in his relentless march to turn and face me. His wild golden eyes looked concerned. "You all right?"

I stopped walking and watched him carefully. I wasn't sure if he knew what I was thinking or not. But he didn't seem to. "I'm fine," I lied, and shot him an indignant glare. "I'm just going to walk quietly… thinking only of mathematics… favorite colors… the proper way to shuck corn…. Anything that keeps _you out_."

He whinnied in a soft laugh as I stalked angrily past him. I could feel his eyes on my back as I struggled to walk swiftly through the undergrowth.

"Do you always walk with such grace?" he asked from behind me.

"I usually walk my woods perfectly well, thank you," I grumbled. "This is just what happens when you're running on three hours sleep."

_**Your**__woods_? he repeated. _A bit possessive, aren't we?_

I flinched at my slip-up, and simply continued to plow ahead. The sun would be down soon, and I didn't want to attempt to walk this path in the dark. We'd covered quite a lot of ground since Jasper revealed where we were heading, and I think we'd earned a rest. I didn't like feeling weak—particularly in my element. I wanted to end it.

"So are you not talking to me now?" Jasper called from a few yards behind.

I frowned and shot a look at him over my shoulder. "We've been walking in silence for hours," I commented. "And you're just _now_ making this observation?"

"But this is _angry_ silence," he noted. "I can tell the difference. Please give me _some_ credit."

"I'm not angry," I denied, picking up my pace just a bit. Jasper chuckled behind me, and picked up a quick trot to come to my side.

"Yes you are," he insisted. "Why?" I just continued on in silence. I didn't feel like addressing his questions. "Are you just always angry?" he pressed.

I snapped my head to glare at him. "No," I objected firmly.

"But you used to be." This time it wasn't a question.

"What I used to be is of no matter," I muttered. "All that matters is what I am now."

_And what are you now?_

I yawned. "Tired."

"Clever," he quipped dryly. I never knew unicorns could roll their eyes.

"Where are you from, Jasper?" I asked suddenly, casting him a sidelong glance.

He took a deep breath, his barrel-chest heaving and his eyes staring blankly ahead. "I was born to the sound of a song," he recalled distantly, his voice a thoughtful whisper. "Some indescribable lullaby carrying on the newborn wind. It was warm out, but not hot. Flowers were coming to life all around me."

"Here in Narnia?" I asked.

"I imagine so, since I don't remember ever leaving anyplace. I've been here as long as I can remember."

"Are most of your memories of your birth vague?" I asked. "Like everything else?"

His nostrils flared in a deep sigh. "Yes," he responded sadly.

"Do you have any idea how long ago that was?" I kept praying that he wouldn't stop answering me. I had a feeling that any second he'd close up again, like a flower when the sun goes down. "Do you even know how old you are?"

He reached up his head to once again strip a low-hanging branch of its leaves, and turned to look at me as he munched.

_Old._

I frowned. "You don't seem old."

"That's because I'm only old by your standards," he explained once he'd swallowed. "I'm not an old unicorn. But I'm an old soul."

I fiddled with Rhindon's hilt curiously. It was nice to have it at my side, in my hand. It was sort of like bringing my brother along with me. "I didn't know unicorns lived that long," I mused.

"Not all of us do," he responded. "Some of us make it only a couple hundred years. But we age faster when we are part of something."

I thought about that for a moment. "I'm lost there," I confessed.

"A unicorn has the ability to live as long as it pleases. If it chooses to live on its own… eat grass, lie in the sun, bath in the sea, run in the fields, sleep in the forest, and then start all over again the next day—it could live countless days just like that. But a unicorn's natural instinct is to be more. To be a part of a community, a family. We age much faster once we've found a mate, produced foals, raised a family, and found our purpose. A unicorn's most passionate ambition is to be great in battle. And if that is our purpose, we often live the shortest lives of all our kind—even if we survive every war."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I never knew that," I admitted.

_The happiest unicorn has the shortest life_, he told me solemnly, squinting his eyes as the breeze blew back his forelock.

"So… why are you so old?" I asked reluctantly.

He brought his gaze back down to me again. _I'm looking for my purpose_, he explained.

"For all this time?"

"Yes."

"You never wanted to be part of a family? I know for a fact that there are several unicorn colonies scattered throughout Narnia."

"I run into them from time to time," he mentioned. "But I never stay long."

"Why?"

He thought for a moment. _The call I have is greater_.

"But you don't know what it is," I finished. It wasn't a question.

"No," he replied, and then turned to watch me closely. _But I think it has to do with you._

We didn't speak again for a while after that. The forest was becoming very dark, and I was constantly tripping. Once I tumbled roughly over a protruding oak root, and in the blink of an eye, Jasper moved himself gracefully in front of me to block me from falling onto my face. I couldn't help but notice how silky his opalescent fur was as I pushed myself upright against his side.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"You should get some sleep, Ed," he observed. "Those legs are much more difficult to travel on than mine. There's a nice clearing just a few minutes ahead. We can stop there until it's light."

"How do you know about the clearing?" I asked once we were walking again. My feet felt better with the promise of coming rest.

He chuckled over his shoulder, as he walked just a few steps ahead of me. "Does it shock you that someone knows these woods even better than you think you do?"

"Just a little," I confessed moodily. I didn't like admitting that. "But I guess you've had a lot of time to memorize it."

_You have no idea_.

The clearing _was_ perfect. Just a small patch of moss and clover surrounded by towering oaks. It felt like heaven to lie down on its bouncy texture and rest my face against Peter's jerkin. Once again, it was nice to have something of his along with me. After my father left I would sleep with his toy lion, Adam. It just felt better.

My eyes snapped open just after I'd closed them. How did I remember that? Since _when_ could I remember something like that? I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to recall something else, anything else. But all I kept coming back to were the images from my dreams, and that earliest memory of a snowy Narnian morning, and the sound of sleigh bells….

******

"_You're just not the same anymore," Peter was telling me. His voice was sad, but accusing. It cut me to the core. I felt my insides boiling, and stood from the kitchen chair to shout at him. But then __**she**__ interceded._

"_He didn't mean it that way," she interjected, holding up a fragile hand to silence my outburst. "He just loves you," she explained. "We all do. I understand how hard things are for you right now, but they're hard on all of us. We need each other more than ever."_

_I blew out an angry breath through my nose, and slumped back down in my seat. The woman __sitting at the table had those familiar eyes, sad and loving. She had Lucy's bouncy hair, with Susan's color. She had my pale skin, and Peter's worried mouth. Looking at her, I knew I loved her. But she made me mad. Everything made me mad. _

"_In times of strife," she began, "You'll need your brother and sisters more than anything." She was choking back tears. The tears made me the angriest of all. When she went to grasp my hand, I yanked it away. Peter shook his head at my actions._

"_We know what will make you feel better," they both said in unison, then they were offering me gifts. Peter was trying to shove his stuffed lion into my arms, and I turned my face away in stubborn anger. Then my mother set down a plate of powdery Turkish Delight onto the tabletop. My heart turned to ice, and I pushed the plate off the table with a panicked shriek. The china shattered on the tile floor, and the candy scattered everywhere. It continued to pile up at my feet, multiplying dramatically until I was standing shin-deep in powdered sugar. _

_It looked like snow._

I woke from that dream like I had been drowning—with a sharp intake of breath. This time I didn't awaken Jasper, who had fallen asleep standing, slightly leaning against a nearby tree trunk. It was just after dawn now. The pink sunlight was once again pouring through the treetops and fell sparkling to the forest floor.

I sat up among the moss and leaves and turned to watch Jasper sleep for a moment. The dreams were _his_ doing. I was more certain now than ever. But I was unsure if he knew this or not. I stood up slowly; my hip was stuff from sleeping on Rhindon's hilt all night, but aside from that I felt well-rested. I took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of clover. It was like breathing in dessert. I didn't know how much of that dream was an actual memory, and how much was from the splinter of iciness within me, but I was grateful for it. I was grateful that I finally got to see the face that went with those eyes. The face of my mother. It was the only possibility.

In the quiet of the morning I heard a strange type of whisper. At first I thought Jasper was speaking in my head again, then I thought perhaps it was the sound of dryads laughing. There was something familiar about it… something welcoming. I cast one quick look at the sleeping unicorn before tip-toeing from the clearing and into the trees. I kept my ears open for the sound of any voice, but all I heard was that distant whisper, which now sounded more like a gurgling chuckle. The sunlight was growing brighter, and it streaked through the cool woods in brilliant spears of light. I walked through each shaft, and every time it was like stepping into a warm bath. It felt brilliant. A dryad made of dark lavender blossoms was drifting contently on the breeze, and she waved at me idly before giggling and floating on by. I'm sure she knew who I was, but she didn't bother asking what I was doing way out here. The sound of her giggle made me smile, but that wasn't the sound I had heard.

It was growing louder now, and this time I knew what it was. It was the river.

I followed its bubbling laughter for a bit longer, until the sound was bouncing off every tree. When I finally came to the river's edge I felt all my troubles melt away. The crystal-clear water was tossing over the smooth rocks in bursts of churning foam and bubbles. A pair of butterflies was dancing just above its surface, flirting with each other and with the danger of becoming soaked. I could still hear that dryad laughing in the distance, and mixed with the sound of the river it made the most perfect music.

With an eager smile I peeled my shirt off over my head and kicked my boots to the side. I unbuckled my belt and sheath and draped them both over a tree branch. The rushing water became slightly trapped by this semi-circle of rocks, forming a perfect pool that glowed gem-teal in the summer light. I sucked in a grateful breath and leapt into its immaculate coolness.

The water swallowed my body like cold silk, and I stayed beneath its surface to let it envelope every part of me. The churning current hummed in my head, and as I opened my eyes I watched the blur of dark blue whiz past me. The stones just inches below my feet were glittering like pearls, and I saw a school of minnows dancing in unison. When I lifted my head to gaze through the glassy surface, I could see the sunlight winking through the blurry canopy of leaves.

Then I saw her.

She was watching me from just above the surface. She was waiting for me to come up for air. Her icy crown was shimmering in the sun, but the heat of the summer was causing it to melt. A drop of it hit the water just above my nose, and I immediately felt the temperature change in the river. It caused my entire body to convulse. I had to stay below. I couldn't risk coming up for air. I would drown before I ever let her take hold of me again!

And then her stark-white hand burst through the surface, latching onto my neck underwater. I blew out a panicked whirlpool of bubbles, listening to my own screams muffled by the water that immediately flushed into my lungs. Sputtering and coughing, I kicked and thrashed violently under the water, but her freezing fingers just closed more tightly around my throat. My lungs were on fire; my chest was ice cold again.

Her past words were screaming mockingly in my head as the darkness closed in. _Do you think mere force will deny me my right… Little King?_

And then I was swallowed completely.

I don't think it was long before I woke up again. I was still vomiting water onto the ground, my face pressed firmly into the dirt and my whole body quivering. I guess I was still struggling, because there were several pair of rough hands trying to secure me against the earth. As I opened my eyes, I couldn't see anyone… just the mud.

"It's _human_," someone said, with a thick accent I recognized, but I was still too dazed to place it.

"Sit him up," another one commanded roughly. Both were male.

I felt someone forcefully hoist me from the ground and prop me up against a tree. My hands were now tied behind my back, and I was furious with myself for letting them accomplish that feat. I tried to see their faces, but the mud all over my face was dripping into my eyes. I shut them against the sting, then tried to wipe them on my shoulders. All that did was smear the mud in deeper.

"I thought it was a faun," the first voice was explaining, his tone heavy with disbelief.

"More humans around here than there used to be," the second voice observed. "Since the winter ended."

"Well what the hell are we going to do with a human?" the first asked in frustration.

"They'll still take a human. Provided it doesn't have too much fight left in him."

"He's got a sword here," a new voice noted, and I squirmed against my bonds in anger. I didn't want them touching Peter's sword. "So I'd say he could have a great deal of fight left in him."

"I can cure that," the second voice chuckled.

"You are all imbeciles," another new voice observed coolly. I didn't like this voice at all. It sounded smarter. It sounded deadly. "Have you looked at the sword carefully?"

I felt panic flare up inside of me once more, and twisted my wrists painfully in my bonds again. But the ropes didn't budge.

"What about it?" the second voice snarled impatiently.

I heard the dull thud of flesh against flesh, and listened to a painful grunt. I really wished I could see.

"That's the sword of the High King."

I could instantly sense the change in their attitudes. Disbelief and panic.

"This is King Peter?" the first voice asked in awe.

"No…" the deadly voice mumbled as I heard him draw nearer. I could hear the squeak of his boots as he knelt down before me, and felt his hot breath graze my face. A hand roughly wiped the mud from my face, and I was finally able to glare at my captors though my mask of dirt.

"It's King Edmund the Just," he confirmed calmly.

They were Calormenes. That was the accent. They were dressed in Calormen hunting attire: simple robes, heavy boots, black turbans, heavy-laden with weaponry. Four of them, all black-haired and dark-eyed, with rough olive skin and grizzly beards adorned in colored strings and beads. I released a heavy sigh and slumped against the tree trunk; this was going to be a long morning.

"Are you absolutely certain?" one of them asked. All but the leader were cowering in the background, like I could break free of my bonds with but a thought and race at their throats. I almost smiled to myself smugly… nice to have that type of reputation.

"I am certain," the leader snarled with a dirty grin. "I have seen this White Barbarian King before, along with the youngest Queen. They came traveling through Tashbaan a couple years ago."

"Quick!" one of them hissed to the others. "Throw your scarves across your face. We cannot let him memorize our visages… in case he returns to Calormen."

The leader lowered his face even nearer to mine in defiance; I scrunched my nose against the reek of his breath. "He won't be seeing Calormen ever again, men," he grinned.

"If it's all the same to you," one of them said, wrapping everything below his eyes in cloth, "I'd rather be on the safe side."

"Do as you please," he waved them away. "It makes little difference to me."

"Are you really planning on killing him?" another asked, his eyes darting about nervously. "A King of Narnia? This could bring the entire Barbarian army down upon us like a sand storm."

"They will never know," he argued calmly. "There are a thousand ways to die in the wilderness."

"But not necessarily for a Narnian King," another pointed out.

"His royal siblings know nothing of our presence here," the leader snapped, turning to face his companions. "We cannot let him go now. Not after all he has seen. The Tisroc would have us all killed for damaging relations with the White Barbarians."

I waited to see if they would argue further, but with all of their faces concealed by their robes, it was difficult to read their expressions. Besides, any argument was fruitless. I was certain of that. There was nothing in this man's eyes but bloodlust. He was ready to kill.

When none of his men pushed the matter further, the leader barked out another order. "Fetch what we need. It isn't far."

"I'll stay with you," one of the three volunteered. "I don't think it wise to be left alone with him."

"Finally," I muttered. "A compliment."

The leader gazed down at me in amusement at half the hunting party stalked off into the woods. "It speaks," he observed with a nasty smile.

"It does," I retorted dryly, wringing my sore wrists in my bonds.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Kind Edmund," he bowed in the slightest, but it was mockingly. "I have admired your stature and courage from afar. What an honor to finally be so close."

"Feel free to back up," I grunted.

He laughed a deep, guttural laugh. "Very much how I imagined you," he nodded. "Pity we had to meet under these circumstances."

"How long have you been doing this?" I growled. "Sending hunting parties into my woods to capture my people for slavery?"

"Catches on quickly, too."

"Spare me the ballad of admiration," I snapped. "How long?" My anger was churning violently in anticipation for the answer. The thought of my people being rounded up like cattle, sold to the highest bidder, the most insufferable piece of Calormen trash, and all right under my nose… it was enough to make me boil over completely.

"After you and your siblings ended the Hundred Year Winter," he said, "there was nothing to keep us from entering your domain."

I tried very hard to steady the burning breath tumbling about in my lungs. "Quite a long trip to make," I observed. "Long trip through the desert and through Archenland just to round up a few extra slaves."

"Not simply slaves," he shook his head. "Do you have any idea how many coins are paid for one of those delightful talking animals? Any Tarkheena child would move mountains just to get her hands on a mouse that can sing her to sleep. Otters, squirrels, cats… they all bring in a small fortune. And the nymphs, though very challenging to capture, fetch a brilliant amount from the market. Calormenes are very impressed with the beauty bred in your land."

The veins in my neck and arms were about to burst through my skin now as I struggled tirelessly to break free, but all I did was kick up dirt and leaves. The Calormen laughed bitterly as he stared down at me.

"Look at the White Barbarian King," he chuckled. "The Great King Edmund the Just…."

The words had hardly escaped his lips when he was suddenly thrown forward with such staggering force that he slammed against the trunk just above my head and almost fell on top of me. I could hear him cry out in pain as several bones buckled from the impact. I kicked away from his fallen form and looked up at Jasper, whose wild eyes were ablaze with burning fury. Had Jasper still possessed his horn, there was no doubt he would have skewered the Calormene straight through the torso.

As the hunter struggled to recover, Jasper looked down at me with flaring nostrils. _Are you all right Your Highness?_

I tried to tell him I was fine, to thank him, but all I got out was, "Watch out!" as the second Calormene rushed him from behind.

Jasper turned his head in time to throw the hunter into the air with a simple toss of his mighty neck. The second man went down with in a crumbling heap just as the other two sprinted from the cover of the trees and onto the riverbank; their eyes stared out in crippling surprise from their masks.

"Did the horse do that?" one of them asked in breathless shock.

"Yes," moaned the second man on the ground. "Kill it!"

But the leader was rising back to his feet, his face aghast. "No!" he shouted. "Don't kill it! That's no horse!"

I was right. He was smart.

Jasper was now charging the two remaining Calormenes. The one drew both of his curved, shining sabers, and ran clear of the rampaging unicorn, back into the trees. The final man standing was holding only a nasty-looking knife, but had no time to use it before Jasper had slammed him to the ground. I watched in utter shock as Jasper ferociously attempted to stamp the man's head into the soil. The Calormene was struggling to reach up with his knife, but Jasper's hooves were constantly raining down around him.

I was now on my side, using a small but sharp rock protruding from the earth to scrape against the rope holding my wrists. I grit my teeth in pain as the rock cut into my skin; I could feel the warm flow of blood running down my hands. None of the hunters were paying me any mind now. The second one to fall was still down in a heap in the dirt, and the leader was digging through his supplies, trying to unwind a loop of rope as his companion was rolling around desperately on the forest floor beneath Jasper's rampaging feet.

Finally the rope snapped with a last painful jab of the rock to my wrists, and I tore my arms from my bonds in a sob of relief. Just then the fourth hunter with the two sabers returned from the darkness of the woods, and I felt my heart drop as I realized Rhindon was nowhere in sight. He was holding the sabers high, not ready to use at all, so I considered just rushing him. He stopped dead in his tracks, as if sensing my plan, and then simply tossed me one of his swords. I couldn't believe I managed to catch it, my head was so spinning with surprise. I stood there stupefied for a moment, just watching the fourth hunter.

_Wake up Edmund!_ a voice screamed in my head. But this time it wasn't Jasper's. It was mine.

I snapped back to reality, and charged across the riverbank to the leader, who was warily approaching Jasper with the looped rope in hand. My heavy footsteps alerted him, and he snapped his head around to watch my advance.

"Damn," he grunted in frustration, and reached down to grasp a long spear at his feet. But he never turned it on me. He lifted it high over his head, and with practiced perfection, he launched it into the air. Towards Jasper.

I felt my heart freeze as Jasper's beautiful voice exploded in a cry of pain. His terrified neigh echoed across the river and through the trees, and I could only stand rooted in horror as he stumbled backwards and fell with a horrible thud to the ground. I felt tears stinging my eyes as I observed the long spear sticking from his perfect side, and then in a flurry of anger, I was dashing to the Calormene again. My voice blasted from my throat in a furious cry, and as I raced to my enemy I gave one more glance at the fourth Calormene. He was running at my side, and he was looking at me too.

It's funny. Even with my throat burning from the screaming, even with my legs pumping me towards my foe, even with Jasper lying there like a marble statue, even with my heart on fire… I was able to notice something strange.

The Calormene's eyes were blue.

******

A/N:::: Ok everyone! I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Sorry for the little cliffie at the end, but sometimes I like putting those in. The facts about the life of the unicorn is not something I read from CS Lewis. Or anyone for that matter. Hope Lewis doesn't mind me toying with his ideas a bit. I'm sure he wouldn't... and that's one of the reasons I love him so. Please review if you'd like. It inspires me :)

More twists to come you guys. Plus some new friends... and some old. Not to mention a certain castle looming in the distance.

Much love. Tiki.


	6. Visions and Decisions

A/N::::: Hey there everyone! Sorry for the slight delay in my update. I was working on a new vid for youtube in my spare time... but now it's done and I just HAD to return to this story, especially with all of your flattering comments. :) So, I posted a sort-of-poster for this story on deviantart. To view it, please visit my homepage on this site, I put the link there.I'd love you guys to see it! It's got JASPER! Lol. He's actually my horse, who Jasper is based off of, only edited to have his trademark scar. So on this note, I thought I'd throw out a bit of a challenge: Anyone who choses to create their own fanart based on my story will get a little prize. I will let them pick one of two little prizes: they can (1) have me name a minor character after them, or (2) they can ask a question about any of the characters and I will answer it in my story for them. Anyone who makes fanart will also have their work featured as a link on my next chapter. Artwork can be a drawing, painting, collage of images, anything. Be imaginative. I just need a link to it online. What can I say? I'm an artist and love to see what other people can do! Just send me the link as a review on my story.

Anyway, without further ado:

::::NIGHTFALL::::

THE STORY OF KING EDMUND THE JUST

:CHAPTER SIX:

VISIONS AND DECISIONS

I had my suspicions… but I wasn't certain. It seemed too good to be true. It didn't seem to fit with the luck I'd been having lately. It wasn't until a few moments later that I knew for certain.

I charged alongside the rogue Calormene, our scimitar in hand and my head on fire as I tried not to think of Jasper lying motionless on the forest floor. The leader of the hunters was standing ready for us, poised with his sword held high and his black eyes burning. I heard an angry scream escape my throat as I heaved the unfamiliar weapon to my enemy. He blocked it easily; my lunge was sloppy. I would need to ease the fury burning inside me if I was going to fight to my full potential. The rogue Calormene beside me aimed a more precise lunge at the hunter, but still it was blocked, then followed by a slash to my head that only just missed me. I hit the ground hard, and waited one heartbeat before rising again. When I came back up the hunter was tossing my ally to the earth. I charged him in pure rage again, and felt his vice-like grip clasp around my throat. I gasped for the forest air, hearing my pulse thunder in my ears.

He was strong. I felt my feet lift from the air. It brought back another memory. It covered up the thundering in my ears.

_Where are the others?_ she asked me, my ankles weighed down by the iron shackles and my shoes dangling inches above the ice-floor. Her breath was like a bitter wind on my face. I could only lie to her… but somehow I knew it wouldn't work….

No! I shut my eyes tight and forced the memory back into its designated corner of my mind. Not now. I needed to focus. The hunter's breath was now what I felt on my face, and I opened my eyes to see him smiling mockingly at me. I set my jaw and pulled the stunt my siblings always told me to stop. It worried them when I did it, but it worked every time.

I bashed my forehead into his face. I heard his nose break against my skull, and he released me while he staggered backwards in pain. Blood was pouring between his fingers as he clutched at his face, and I raised my sword to strike.

That was when I felt a hand around my wrist. I spun around to see the rogue Calormene standing there, those patient blue eyes watching me carefully. That slight hesitation on my part was all the time the hunter needed to turn and disappear into the depths of the forest, away from my anger… away from my sword. Away from my so-called "justice".

That was when I was certain. My brother had found me.

********

:::::As seen from the eyes of Peter the Magnificent:::::

I'd seen him lost before. My little brother. One of the earliest memories I had was of him gasping on the floor of somewhere dark and small, clutching a picture frame in his hand and crying on the pavement. I couldn't remember where or why… but he looked lost. I'd seen him standing beside a Great Cat on a hilltop at sunrise. My chest was fluttering at the sight of his return… but even from the distance at which I was standing, I could tell he was lost. He'd come to me in the dead of night, trembling with the renewed memories of an icy nightmare, and I'd just silently put my arm around him until he felt safe enough to fall asleep again. I hated seeing him lost.

But Edmund had never looked like this. I could tell that the Witch's influence was not upon him. At least… not in the dangerous way it had been before… at our duel. But there was something there. I saw the way he raised his sword, I saw the way his dark eyes swallowed his entire face in a blaze of fury. I saw the fear behind those eyes as he looked into mine after I'd grabbed his wrist. Even the fierce hug he gave me once I'd removed my Calormen head-dress was a sign of just how lost my brother was. He was shaking as he clawed at my robes, and I heard sobs in his breath against my ear. He wasn't just glad to see me. Edmund was dead-scared.

"God, what are you doing here?" he finally breathed, still not releasing me. I wasn't quite ready to release him either, but that comment made me pull back slightly with a frown.

"I'm sorry?" I asked.

Once again the fear was burning black in his eyes. Edmund's eyes were something else… my sister Susan had pointed that out years ago, and I always noticed it now. When he laughed, his dark eyes were much brighter than any shade of blue mine could ever reach. When it was night, they looked like onyx against his pale skin. When he killed, they reminded me of Aslan's eyes… like when Edmund killed it was somehow more terrifying but more pure than when anyone else did it. That was why it scared me when he'd try to cut down the defenseless Calormene, and that was why now his eyes were like dark pools of worry.

"Why did you leave the castle?" he demanded, but softly. There was no anger in his voice.

My frown deepened at the obviousness of the question. "I left to keep you safe," I explained firmly.

I swear, if I live to be as old as the sky itself, I will never forget the feel in the air as my brother stared wide-eyed at me, and said in a weak breath, "… So did I…."

We didn't speak for a long moment. I was suddenly very chilly, and I couldn't even imagine how Edmund felt—completely soaked and in only a pair of trousers. I wanted to say something… to ask a million questions. But nothing came. Instead I just pulled my robe over my head and began to throw it over Edmund's shoulders. But he gently swatted it away.

"We have to save him," he demanded quietly, but firmly. His face was paling in panic. The shock was dissolving.

I knew what he meant, and glanced over at the stunning creature lying still on the leafy floor. I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for not remembering him sooner. Edmund beat me to his side, and knelt close to the unicorn's face. Its eyes were shut, but I could see his broad sides heaving in unsteady breaths. I took a second to examine my brother's face. The grief etched in his features surprised me. Edmund always felt compassion towards the helpless… but the look in his eyes was as if he'd known this creature forever.

The look in his eyes was love.

"I can save him," I promised quietly. Edmund looked up in shock at my certainty. I reached into a pouch on my belt and extracted a sparkling crystal vile, sunlight becoming ensnared in the crimson liquid within.

He looked at me curiously, though relief was flooding his face. "Why do you…?"

"Lucy leant it to me," I explained as I uncorked the top and gently pulled back the unicorn's lip. "She had a feeling that I would need it."

"Why?" he asked, and I smiled slightly.

"She thought I'd be the one to find you first."

I didn't look up from my task to see if he smiled in return… I was too afraid of the answer. Instead, with a steady hand, I carefully tipped the vile and let one rosy drop of Lucy's cordial fall onto the tongue of Edmund's new companion. I heard Edmund rustling around on the ground beside me as he yanked the Calormene spear from the unicorn's side with a grunt. Once again, I was too afraid to see Ed's face. I could hear the pain and anger in his grunt alone. He tossed the spear roughly to the side and knelt again at my side. I turned to look at the horrible wound just behind the unicorn's shoulder. Opalescent blood was pouring freely from the gash now, creating a shining pool on the dirt… both beautiful and horrible. The fact that the Calormene hunter was so quick to spill that blood made my insides turn and boil, and I shut my eyes with a steadying breath to keep myself from falling into the same pit my brother was currently toiling within. I hated letting that hunter go. Letting him run free to hunt my people again… but I couldn't let Edmund just kill him, and I was too distracted with healing the injured unicorn, and hugging my brother, to take the time to secure him.

"We'll find that hunter," I told Edmund in a low and certain growl "I promise you." Then I finally risked a look at his face. He was watching me, and nodded briefly before returning his gaze to the unicorn's side. The terrible wound was rapidly closing up, stopping the flow of blood, and his perfect white side was almost perfect again. I heard Edmund expel a sigh of relief as the creature began to stir.

It turned its head and opened one wild, golden eye to stare up at us. I heard his musical voice in my head. _That's some drug you have there,_ he commented wryly, and I swear I saw him smile. And at last I saw my brother smile too. He seemed about to go in to hug his massive neck, but suddenly thought it better to just rub his pink nose gently.

"You better watch it," Edmund grinned. "More stunts like that and you'll severely start cutting your lifespan short."

The unicorn blew a small laugh through his large nostrils, and then rose to his feet. I stepped back with Edmund to give him room, and held back a gasp as the hornless unicorn shook out his mane in the filtered forest sunlight. He was beautiful, and somehow reminded me of an orchid in the woods. I'd felt a similar tightening in my chest when Aslan had first walked before me. There was an undeniable grace in his liquid muscles, but I saw danger in those bright eyes. I'd seen danger in the way he'd attempted to stamp the Calmorene's head into the ground.

Suddenly remembering the fallen enemies strewn around us, I snapped back to the present.

"We'd better get moving," I remarked. "Ed, help me tie these men up." It didn't take us long. The unicorn's victim was out cold, so we used the rope from their own pack to secure him against a tree. The other proved to be a bit more difficult. His back, which had crunched against a rock when the unicorn had tossed him to the ground, rendered him useless. But he was coming out of his painful grog, and words spilled venomously from his mouth.

"It will only be a matter of time before my companion comes back for me," he sneered as I finished tightening the knot around his wrists. "The one you released into the woods. He'll come back for me."

"I imagine so," I mumbled, checking my work on the ropes. "He seemed the chivalrous type."

"Too weak to kill," he spat in disbelief. "Too proud to amend your mistakes. That is why this country is doomed to fall into another winter. Why your people sit in cages in Calormen, or dance for our lords' fancies. Why they are rounded up beneath your noses. Yes… winter will fall again before long."

Edmund was staring down at him, sword in hand, eyes ablaze. He looked up briefly to meet my gaze, and with a knowing sigh, I nodded. He brought the hilt of the weapon down hard upon the Calormene's head, a dull thud sounded in the quiet woods, and the ropes creaked with the weight of the hunter as he slumped unconsciously against his binds.

Once Edmund was back into his tunic and boots, the two of us, along with the unicorn, left the clearing beside the river. Two unconscious men lay basking in the sunlight, and a pool of shining opal blood sparkled on the earth. I wish I could say we left more behind us… but I could tell that we were taking most of it with us.

********

:::::As seen through the eyes of Edmund the Just:::::

We passed our sleeping spot, and I scooped up Peter's jerkin from the ground. It was strange to think that I had been slumbering here only a few short hours ago. None of us really said a word as we continued to walk northwest. But we didn't get far before Peter insisted we stop and talk things over. It startled both me and Jasper, to have to stop. Walking northwest had sort of become instinctive now. But it was understandable that Peter want to know why and t where we were all marching.

He led Jasper and me to the empty Calormene camp, not far from the riverbank. I didn't like going there, but Peter insisted he saw food. The very mention of food got my stomach churning. I hadn't even realized how long it had been since I'd eaten. We didn't take refuge in the shade of their tents; instead we simply collected a sack full of food and walked just a little further into the shade of a willow tree beside the water. Peter gave me a moment to shove a few mouthfuls of crackers into my mouth before he asked me any questions. Jasper waded into the river and dipped his lips to the cool water.

I decided to ask a question first.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

Peter looked up from his lunch. "I didn't," he confessed. "I found the Calormenes, and they found you. When we found you gone, we all left before sunrise that morning. The wolves tracked you as far as they could, but could only smell you for so long. The dew of the morning apparently washed away most of your scent."

I frowned. "You told the wolves? I really was hoping to not let the entire kingdom know our problems."

"Then you should have thought about that before running from your family without a word," Peter retorted. It wasn't an angry snap; it was soft… quiet. But it hurt nonetheless. I could hear the worry still fresh in his voice, and tried to block out the image I was imagining in my head of Peter's face when he opened the door to his bedroom and saw I was gone.

I looked down at my hands, twisting them in my lap. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't tell the guards; I only told the wolves," Peter sighed, taking a swig of water. "And a couple other scouts we sent out. Phillip's out there somewhere. He's worried about you." He cast me a sidelong glance. "I don't know how pleased he'd be to find you cheating on him," he blew out a chuckle and nodded to Jasper, who was kicking at the water and sending it up in glittering drops. I smiled.

"His name is Jasper," I told him, and though my voice was low, I saw Jasper lift his head towards us. I was sure he'd heard my thoughts just then… telling him how glad I was to be able to watch him play stupidly in the water, not to burying him beneath the oaks of the wood.

"How did you find him?" Peter asked me, also watching him. "He's quite extraordinary."

"Soon," I promised. "First finish telling me how you found me."

He sucked in a breath. "I stumbled upon the Calormene camp when it was empty, early this morning. I'd been traveling with Phillip and Thunderhead, the osprey. But I couldn't sleep, so this morning I slipped away from the group."

"Sounds familiar," I muttered, and he continued.

"I saw the camp, and had only just begun to examine it, when two Calormenes came bursting through the woods. I hid in one of their tents as they began to frantically gather some tools and weaponry. Then I heard a small voice call my name quietly. I turned to see a Talking ocelot curled up in an iron cage. I didn't remember her, but she knew who I was. I asked what had happened, and in a few sentences, she told me everything. About the hunters, about who and what they collect, about… everything. I was just unlocking her cage when one of the Calormenes came in and found me. He was unarmed. I took care of him easily. That was when I released the ocelot, slipped into the Calormene's robes, and followed his companion from the camp. I wanted to find his leader. I wanted to do something. That was when I saw you. I saw Jasper charge us, and took off to help you. I'm only sorry I couldn't have done more. I wanted to… but…" he looked at me with guilty misting up his eyes. "You understand don't you? Deep down? You understand why it wasn't the right time to kill him. To stop him?"

I felt a lump wedge itself in my throat, and nodded. "I do, Pete."

I saw the heaviness in Peter's face lift just a little. "So here we are. Just you, me, an ex-unicorn… and a thousand questions."

I smiled. I was hoping to skip this part, but I knew I couldn't. I tried to tell him everything. I told him about Jasper's voice in my head, about my worries of what I would do to my siblings if I stayed at the castle. I told him about the feeling within me that said I needed to follow Jasper… and I told him where we were going.

I watched his blue eyes turn perfectly round, like two small moons on his surprised face. "What?" he breathed. "Why?

I shook my head with a shrug. "I don't know. Neither does Jasper. He just knows that we need to go there. And I believe him."

"How can you want to go?" he asked me. "We never go there."

"Well maybe it's time one of us did."

"I can't just let you march over there. You have no idea what could still be lingering there."

I raised my brow and watched Jasper's throat move as he took huge gulps over river water. "Trust me," I sighed, "I was in no rush to go there myself. It's the last place I want to go, but… things happen for a reason. And maybe I _need_ to go." I knew I wasn't making much sense, but Peter often understood me anyway. I was never as good with words as he was. People always thought I was so much graver than my brother… but they never considered that perhaps I just didn't trust myself when I opened my mouth.

"What are you looking for there?" he demanded, brow furrowed. I could tell I was exasperating him.

"Answers," I replied simply.

"To what?"

I took a deep breath, and finally revealed the one thing about the past two days that I had not yet told my brother. "I still see her, Pete. I still feel her." I felt a shiver travel up my spine, and lifted my eyes to stare into his face. I always found solace there. "It feels just like last time," I whispered. "She wants to kill you… and she wants to destroy me. And just like last time… I have no idea where else to go."

*********

:::::As seen through the eyes of Jasper the Unicorn:::::

I tried to entertain myself in the river as long as I could. I wanted to give them time to talk. I could hear them, of course, on more levels than one. Usually it was just the whisper of their frightened voices barely audible above the din of the rushing water, but occasionally I would catch glimpses of their minds—especially my dark-haired companion. I could sometimes hear the blaring concern in the thoughts of the fair-haired brother as well. He was not essential to my destiny in the same way as Edmund, but I was beginning to get the feeling his path was still linked with my own.

_I won't let him go on his own again,_ I heard Peter saying. I could hear the frown in his thoughts. _But at the same time… I can't bear…._ And that's when I saw the image in my mind. The crisp blue night, moonlight radiating from the snow. I saw through Peter's eyes as he stood on hilltop, looking out at the icy spires of the Witch's castle, piercing the black sky. I could feel his heart pounding in his memory, and just make out the very distant form of a small boy, being swallowed by a pair of grand doors. I heard a girl voice beside me scream Edmund's name in echoing horror, and that brought me back to the present.

Edmund and Peter were still sitting beneath the willow tree, and I was happy to see the sunlight of the summer afternoon replace the blueness of the winter night. There is only so long you can stand in the water and wait for a conversation to end. Eventually, the wet begins to make the inside of your hooves feel too soggy. So I trudged over the stones of the bank, letting the water splash a bit more than it should, and approached the Sons of Adam. Some of the water I was splashing sprayed Edmund, and I whinnied in laughter as he snapped at me to cut it out.

Humans can be so strange at times. His voice was angry, but I certainly saw the chuckle in his eyes as he brushed the water from his pants. It was only a few drops, but he kept brushing at it as if I had dumped a bucket on him. Strange humans….

"I hate to end our picnic," I said, "But I'd like to get a little of forest behind us before you need to rest again," I looked at Edmund. But it was Peter's thoughts I heard next.

_A sarcastic unicorn?_ he wondered. _Strange. He seems almost as exhausting to be around as Edmund._

I smiled to myself at his thoughts, though they baffled me. Why did his thoughts keep seeping into my head. Revealing and amusing as they could be… I didn't understand what they had to do with _my_ destiny.

Edmund's eyes were darting uncertainly from me to his brother as he stood. "He's right, Pete," he said, though his voice was lacking its determination. "It's late. And we need to go."

"I can't let you do that," Peter objected, also standing. "What do you think our sisters will say when I return home without you?"

_Wish he didn't fly so fast…._

I blinked in confusion. That thought belonged neither to Peter _or_ Edmund. Yet I had heard it, loud and clear… which meant it had something to do with myself. The brothers were arguing quietly still, but I ignored them, focusing on the mystery voice echoing in my head.

_Both brothers missing now,_ it was worrying. _I'll have to tell Thunderhead to return to the Queens and give them the news. I can't turn back now. I won't return home until I find them. _

Thunderhead…. The name stuck in my mind, begging to be placed properly in my memory. But when you've lived as long as I have, and when your mind's a constant knot of the past, the future, the mental, and the spoken… it can be hard to keep track. But after a moment's reflection, I recalled hearing the name softly spoken just this hour, by Peter beneath the tree.

_You need to come with us,_ I said simply, looking at them both. Edmund and Peter paused in their quarrel to stare at me curiously. I just tilted my head to the side in response. Humans could be so closed-off to the call of the uncertain… but undeniable.

"No," Edmund finally spoke, the determination now firmly in his voice again. But Peter did not object; he just stared thoughtfully ahead. Edmund sensed his brother's consideration. "No," he repeated. "I am not putting you into danger more than I already have."

Peter met his hard gaze. "We're Kings of Narnia, Ed," he grinned slightly. "That's the way it's supposed to be."

But Edmund did not smile in return. His eyes became pleading. "Please… just go home. I promise I'll come back to you."

_You can't promise that,_ I heard Peter think to himself. Again… a strange thought to receive. What did that have to do with me?

"I won't leave you," Peter said aloud. "Either you come back to the girls with me… or I go with you. And I'm really hoping for the first idea."

_I can't go back…._ Edmund was thinking, his dark eyes darting between his companions again. I only nodded in agreement.

"You can't come with me," he told Peter. "Susan and Lucy would have no idea what became of either one of us."

"Then you tell the osprey," I grinned knowingly as my revelations all fell into perfect place. It was refreshing when that actually happened. Finally I understood why the voice of that Talking Beast was so relevant to my future. These travelers were the only way I could get Edmund to follow me once more. Once again, the brothers turned to look at me curiously. "I'm sure Thunderhead can deliver a message to your sisters."

Peter stammered, "H-how…?"

"We don't know where he is," Edmund said.

"Not far," I told them with certainty. "He is with your horse Phillip." _I can hear them loud and clear,_ I finished.

Both stood there a moment longer, mulling silently, until Peter finally spun on his brother, grasping Edmund's shoulders firmly.

"Do you remember," he began, "at the Battle of Beruna? When Jadis was coming after me? I told you to run, but you turned and you stuck by me. That was the first time you saved my life, Edmund." Edmund was listening deeply to Peter, I could see a million images of Edmund's memories that day flashing behind his eyes, and therefore behind mine as well, but I tried not to pay them too much mind. I wanted to listen.

"Well now Jadis is coming after _you_, Ed," he continued. "And I know you're telling me to run… but I'm not going to."

Edmund didn't have a chance to respond, though Peter and I both saw the tears gathering in his eyes. A piercing screech called from just above the treetops, and we all looked up to see a beautiful bird skimming just over the leaves. His black and white feathers were stroking the summer sky as he stared down at the three of us with intense yellow eyes.

It didn't take long for the Talking Horse to find us after the osprey had alighted on a nearby branch and spoken to the two Kings. I stood at the river's edge, pretending to simply nibble grass as I listened carefully to the two sets of conversations. Peter was speaking to Thunderhead, carefully wording a message to his sisters that the raptor was meant to deliver. The osprey listened carefully, head cocked and eyes staring in a permanent frown as Peter spoke.

"Tell them not to worry," Peter assured him. "I know it's useless, but say it anyway. Tell them we have Jasper also watching our backs. Tell them we love them." His words were much heavier on that last part, and I noted that right before I turned my attention on the other pair standing not far off. Edmund was talking softly in Phillip's ear, trying to hide his voice beneath the noise of the rapids. But I heard anyway. He was trying to convince the horse to leave.

"I'm not saying you wouldn't be useful," Edmund protested. "But I can't be expected to ride you while Peter walks alongside."

"You know I'm good for much more than a saddle," Phillip muttered darkly, and I caught his eyes glaring me for just a second.

"I know you are, old friend," Edmund assured him, patting Phillip's neck. "But this crowds already one more than I wish it was. I can't stop Peter from making the choices he makes, but I can insist on not putting anyone else in danger."

"You admit it then," the chestnut horse snorted. "It's going to be dangerous."

"I'm admitting that I'd feel terrible if anything happened to anyone because of my little venture."

I began to walk slowly towards them, and I felt both sets of eyes on me for a second once they noticed my approach.

"What am I supposed to do until you get back?" Phillip muttered in resignation.

Edmund chuckled. "What did you do until we met?"

Phillip thought about that for a moment. "Waited for it to stop snowing."

Edmund chuckled again, and gave the horse a hearty hug around his thick neck. I tilted my head curiously. I wondered what that felt like. I'd never been touched like that before. Phillip seemed to enjoy it, as he shut his eyes and blew a sigh out his nostrils. "Take care of yourself," he told his King quietly.

Edmund pulled back with a nod. I was now standing just a few yards away, watching them unabashedly, but they seemed to take no notice.

"Keep Lu company on her morning walks," Edmund requested. Peter was bidding farewell to Thunderhead at the same moment. The goodbyes were taking flight into the late afternoon wind, and I felt the promise of travel in the air.

"We best get moving, Phillip," I heard Thunderhead call just before the sound of his wings beating. The rustling of feathers became more of a whisper as he ascended into the sky, but I didn't turn to watch him. I was still watching Edmund and his horse. The two of them said goodbye one last time, only without words. It was a long, trustful look, and then Phillip turned slowly to walk the other way. Edmund stayed rooted where he was, watching him.

Phillip didn't say anything to me as he began to walk past me, but I stopped him with a spoken thought.

_It's intriguing how you can do that_, I noted.

He turned to look at me over his shoulder. "Do what?" he asked.

_Make me feel like it would have been pretty good… to be just a horse._

He didn't say anything. He only frowned a little before continuing to walk away. I watched him go inquisitively. I didn't mean any foul by what I had said. It was honestly a compliment. I suppose Peter was right… I _was_ exhausting to be around.

We were on the move as soon as Phillip dissolved into the shadows of the forest. The sun was just beginning its downward arch as we marched into the northwest again, our shadows beginning to be thrown out in front of us. The two brothers were walking side by side in front of me, talking quietly to one another. But I didn't listen to their conversation. My mind was full.

I was glad to be walking again, and glad that I felt no effect of my earlier run-in with a Calormene spear, but I kept thinking about Edmund's farewell to the Talking Horse, and my head was swimming with the memories Edmund tried to keep buried of his last moment with the Witch. I kept seeing Jadis' yellow eyes, not too unlike those of the osprey, staring murderously at him as she jabbed her wand into his chest. I didn't like how she looked at him, I really didn't like how whenever I recalled that memory, I felt the scar on my forehead burn, and I hated how another memory kept nagging at the back of my mind. It wasn't a memory yet. It was a future memory—a destiny lying thick in the air.

And in this future memory… Edmund's eyes never opened again.

********

A/N::::: Ok, so there ya have it! I know this chapter was a lot of talkin' and not a whole lot of action, but it was definately needed to set the story in place. So hopefully you all just enjoyed the bromance and the glimpses into Peter and Jaspers' heads. Did we like that? The switching between narrators? Let me know. It's an idea I'm toying with. The story would still be mostly from Ed's POV, but I might switch it up from time to time. Ok. Hope to update again soon! Love you guys :)

*Tiki


	7. Footprints of the Past

_A/N::: Hey everyone! Look-- I'm still alive! Haha. I am SO sorry for the delay in updating, but these past weeks have been hectic to say the least. At least I got it up! It's not the longest of chapters, but I think I ended it where I should. Hope you all enjoy it, and I promise not to wait as long to update again. Thank you to everyone who have been reviewing. It really makes me smile to hear your thoughts, and I definately take them to heart. Well, without further ado, here is chapter 7 of Nightfall. :)_

::::NIGHTFALL::::

:THE STORY OF KING EDMUND THE JUST:

::::CHAPTER SEVEN::::

:FOOTPRINTS OF THE PAST:

_I was sitting alone beneath the swaying branches of a birch tree. The dandelions spilled out in front of me on the grass like gold coins on a green carpet. In the summer shade I sat, marching my toy soldiers through the grass. I often liked to come here by myself. The window to our kitchen was just a few yards away, but with the sunlight burning through the leaves and the flowers sprouting all over the lawn, it felt like I was somewhere much farther. _

_Over the rustling of the leaves I could hear the laughter of my older brother and sister erupt from the kitchen window. I heard the faucet running and the clank of pots and plates. Yes… I felt much farther away. I shrugged off the isolation bitterly and with a heavy sigh returned to my favorite soldier. He had shining dark hair, and I had painted his eyes a shocking shade of blue. It looked just like him…. As long as I had this place beneath my tree and this soldier in my hand… it was like having my father right beside me. Until he returned, it would have to do._

"_Come play, Edmund," a small voice beckoned. I lifted my gaze reluctantly to see little Lucy emerging from behind a nearby rosebush. I sighed, and returned to my soldiers without a word. "It's a lovely day," my sister continued unfazed._

"_That's why I came out here," I muttered darkly._

_Lu had only one second to mope before another voice called my name. I turned to see those familiar eyes watching me from the kitchen window. My mother. "You can play one round of hide and seek with your sister," she scolded gently._

"_Yes, come! Come find me, Ed!" And with that she turned and ran into the sunlight. I stood with a huff and darted after her. "Come and see, Edmund!"she was calling over her shoulder. "Soon it'll be your turn to run and hide!" Something about those words bothered me as I continued my pursuit. She was already reaching the small garden shed across the yard. I watched her eyes laughing as she closed the wooden door behind her._

"_Little children don't know when to stop pretending," I growled, swinging the door open. "Boo!" I shouted. But she was not there.... Nor were any gardening tools. Instead there was a snowy wilderness, swirling in a violent blizzard and soaked in moonlight. My mouth fell open as I stood frozen in the doorway._

"_Lucy?" I called, but my voice was lost in the howling wind. I tried once more, but was answered only by the howl of something else. The last thing I saw was a black, furry mass—leaping through the air with glistening jaws, bright eyes, and a bushy tail. In the blackness that followed I heard a gruff voice:_

"_Or else… __**not**__ so fortunate…."_

_****_

I swear I could still feel the breath knocked from my chest as my eyes snapped open and I lay on the forest floor. Jasper and Peter were already awake and talking quietly just a few yards off as I lifted myself from my bed of moss. I was glad they had the chance to talk alone… maybe they could see in each other the subtle things _I_ had come to discover. I was starving, wet with dew, and suddenly overcome with the urge to hug my little sister. It may have been a dream, but I knew in the deepest pit of my heart that words and glares such as those had been shared before. Long ago. When I was someone different.

That someone still haunted me. He was as distant a memory as the mother and father I could never entirely recall… but just like my parents, the eyes of the old Edmund—dark and bitter—still followed me.

It didn't take us long to get moving. Jasper said he hoped to reach Jadis' castle by nightfall, and though I was hardly looking forward to seeing it again, I was certainly anxious to bring an end to our tiresome trek. We had walked most of the night, and settled down in the early hours of the morning. Now it was afternoon, and the hot summer sun sparkled through the bright canopy of leaves. I watched the sunlight dance across Jasper's shimmering back and become caught in Pete's golden hair as they walked just ahead of me, talking with smiles on their faces.

For a delicious moment I pretended we were doing something else. I imagined there were no dreams haunting me in the dead of night, no icy pain in the core of my chest, and no castle looming just ahead. Instead I pretended we were headed to the Great Fall to bathe in the tumbling water. That we had been up all night hunting, and caught nothing, but in good spirits nonetheless. A swim in the Falls seemed the best course of action to take on such a warm afternoon. I imagined the girls were back at Cair Paravel, shaking their heads knowingly at the rudeness of how tardy we would be to dinner. But Jasper's charm, Pete's honest gaze, and my witty banter would have them smiling forgivingly before dessert was served. Strawberries and cream served over nymph-made pound cake….

My stomach rumbled. I always thought of food at the worst times.

A question popped into my head, and I chose to voice it in order to divert my thoughts from desserts that would never come.

"So Jasper," I called, and he slowed his pace just the slightest to allow me to catch up. "Did you honestly not know I was King Edmund?"

A grin glittered in his eyes. "Believe it or not, _Ed_," he stated, "there are a few things I do not know."

I shrugged. "I guess I'm just shocked you didn't read it in my thoughts."

"I guess it wasn't relative to my destiny." _Or at least not yet_, he finished in our minds. Or maybe just mine.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," I said. "I didn't know for sure then if I could trust you."

"Then it was probably unwise of you to follow me into the woods," he snorted in a small chuckle, and my brother cast me a sideways grin.

I nodded. "Fine. Then I guess I just liked someone not knowing who I was. Doesn't happen often."

"He does the same thing with the village girls of Archenland," Peter laughed, and I aimed a playful punch at his arm.

"But when I overheard the Calormenes calling you King…" Jasper began, and gave me a meaningful look. "Well… let's just say I wasn't _entirely _shocked."

"Why was that?"

_You carry yourself like a King_.

I only smiled at that.

We walked constantly until the sky became a dark purple. The woods were less familiar to me now than ever, and I hadn't felt this out of place in my own country for a long time…. Though Jasper and I appeared to be walking on mechanical legs, Peter grumpily insisted we take a moment to sit. The heat of the day was dissolving, but I could see the weariness heavy in my brother's eyes. I had no doubt my eyes wore the same veil of fatigue, but it was still a chore for me to stay put momentarily. My chest was fluttering with anticipation. I was being pulled closer.

"Maybe we should stop for the night," Peter sighed, and stood from the log on which he'd been resting. "I can make a fire."

I frowned. "We haven't been walking more than five hours," I objected.

But Peter was already hacking at dry branches with his sword. "But I can see plainly how exhausted you are. We all are. Come on, Ed. It's a beautiful evening for storytelling. I imagine Jasper has some great tales."

I glanced at Jasper, who was already watching me out of the corner of his eye. I could tell he didn't want to stop either. But the idea of rest _was_ tempting… and the idea of telling stories around a fire was so much more like the wishful daydream I had conjured earlier. It all sounded so much better than marching into my nightmarish past… but I still felt that pull in my chest stronger than ever.

I watched Pete snap a small branch from the nearby tree, my thoughts wandering momentarily, when my brother caught me staring at Rhindon clasped in his fist.

"I should _kill_ you for taking my sword," he chuckled, tossing a branch into a newly forming pile.

The mention of our game temporarily erased all else from my mind. "Come on," I smiled. "It was a good idea. You know it was. It told you I was okay."

"It told me you're an idiot," he mumbled, focusing on snapping a twig in two. I was fairly sure I saw a ghost of a grin on his lips. "First I had to wrack my brain trying to remember if I had simply misplaced Rhindon or if you had actually taken it."

"What convinced you?"

"The odds," he remarked dryly. "The odds of you being an idiot are much greater than those of me being forgetful." I just laughed quietly, forgetting where we were for a moment, and just watching my brother as he chucked another branch into his pile and smiled over at me. "But you're right," he conceded. "It _did_ give me some hope that you were still you. …Edmund?"

But I wasn't listening anymore. I was watching the grass beneath my feet slowly become frosted in a thick layer of snow. It was rising rapidly and silently, burying my feet to my ankles as night continued to fall faster than ever. The moonlight threw the thin gnarled shadows of the forest across the snow like black shafts of lightning, and I felt a shiver crawl across my spine. Everything was dead quiet. Not a bird, not an insect, not a whistling wind… only the single sound of crunching footsteps. I didn't see where they were coming from at first; the woods around me seemed empty. Even Peter and Jasper were invisible to me now. The footsteps were growing nearer, and still all I saw was darkness and snow. Heart thundering and chest on fire, I drew my sword and swallowed a lump in my throat.

Then I saw them. The footprints. A pair of small human shoeprints trekked slowly towards me with no owner in sight. I only saw the marks smashing into the powder as the prints stumbled past me uphill. The noise of the crunching snow was like thunder in my ears. Goosebumps covered my arms and a chill whispered across the back of my neck. I stood frozen, watching with horrified eyes as the prints continued to travel through the snow and up the hill into utter blackness. I knew whose prints they were now. They belonged to that ghost that would always haunt me. That boy who followed me everywhere. They belonged to my former self.

And I knew where they were heading.

I felt warm hands on my face. "God, Ed, you're scaring me. Wake up!"

Peter's voice snapped me back to reality, and the snow dissolved faster than it ever could by melting as the summer forest reappeared before my eyes. My brother was gently smacking his hand against my cheek, and Jasper was watching anxiously over Peter's shoulder. Apparently Pete saw a change in my eyes, because a split second after I noticed him, he blew out a sigh of relief. "What was that about? Are you all right?"

But it was Jasper who understood. _We're close, aren't we?_ he asked with urgency.

I nodded breathlessly. "Right over the hill," I said softly, and broke free of Pete's grasp.

"Edmund?" he called as I sheathed my sword and began to walk quickly with Jasper uphill. I knew Pete would follow. He'd promised.

I couldn't see the snow anymore, but I swear I could still feel it—tugging at my ankles, urging me not to continue. Urging me to stay where I was until my siblings and the two beavers came to take me home. But just as I had then, I marched on. I stumbled on a rock and Jasper's nose was there to support me and nudge me onward. I could dimly register the sound of my brother clawing up the hill after us.

_The first thing I will do when I am King will be to build some decent roads_.

Bitter words of my past stung my ears, and with grit teeth and set jaw I pushed my exhausted legs up the final yards of hill, until I reached its crest, clearing the trees into the open air of the late evening.

That same unnerving silence settled over me again. I couldn't hear the sad song of the owl overhead, or the raspy breathing of me and my two companions, or the rustling of the trees behind me. I only heard empty promises echoing in my head as I stood there in the freezing snow.

_There are whole rooms simply stuffed with Turkish Delight…. Maybe even King?_

I blew out an unsteady breath. How had I ever brought myself to leave this hillside and walk towards the structure that lay before me? It wasn't exactly the same, but the darkness still hovered above it. The spires of ice had long melted, and now only the rock skeleton of the castle remained. Without its frozen glow the castle seemed even more horrifying… just a gnarled form of black stone… like some wicked horned beast waiting in the darkness.

I reached out blindly and felt Jasper standing beside me. Resting my trembling hand on his shoulder, I used the subtle feel of his breathing to anchor me in the here and now. I wasn't ready to drift off again. I wasn't ready to follow those footprints of my past.

"God Edmund," Peter breathed out slowly, his voice weak and afraid. I was glad… it made me feel less alone in my terror. "I remember standing right here," he whispered.

I nodded distantly. "Me too."

"You don't know how much it means to me…" he swallowed hard and put a hand to his face. I hadn't seen him this choked up in a long time. I couldn't see his tears in the darkness, but I was fairly sure I heard them in his voice.

I watched him curiously. "What does?"

He turned to me, and I was finally able to see the moisture beneath his violently blue eyes. Always bluest when he was crying. "To have you beside me this time."

It's strange how life has ways to alleviating fear. Strange and wonderful. I smiled slightly and took a steadying breath as I turned back to stare out at the shadowed palace, surrounded by a glittering lake.

_We should keep moving,_ Jasper told us gently. _We can't stop now._

The walk down the hill was the quietest part of our entire venture. I kept trying to close my mind. I didn't want the memories of what I had done here… what I had seen… to keep flooding my thoughts. And worse of all, I didn't want Jasper to see them. Instead I only focused on the freezing splinter in my heart, which seemed to pulse as we grew nearer the castle. The pain was intense and thundered in my ears, but at least it helped keep my head clear.

I lifted my head to gaze up at the towering gates of the castle. These doors had once been made of blue glowing ice, and now were only iron skeletons. Nothing was the same this time. This felt nothing like the last time I had walked through these doors. I had been frightened then… but this time I was petrified, and there was no hope of a beautiful woman to feed me desserts and make me King.

Peter was staring open-mouthed around the courtyard as we slowly crossed to the steep steps that spilled from the front entrance.

"I can't believe I've never been in here before," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"It didn't look anything like this," I mulled aloud. "It was covered in snow then… the whole thing glowing blue. And…" I took a moment to steady myself, "Stone prisoners everywhere." It was strange to see the courtyard so empty. But Aslan had freed the prisoners long ago. They had all heroically joined the Battle of Beruna as I lay gasping what should have been my final breaths. Now the courtyard was nothing but an empty stone floor, with an occasional blossoming weed daring to grow between the cracks.

"I'm sorry you had to come here alone, Ed," Peter said. "No one should have to."

I shrugged and mumbled, "Well I brought that on myself." I didn't like talking about it.

"It's summer now," Jasper finally spoke. "But I can still feel winter."

"Have you ever been in here before?" Peter asked.

_I don't know._

I reached the steps leading to the entryway first, and began to scale. My heart was pounding in my throat until I heard Jasper sputter out frustrated curses from behind me. His four hooves were slipping and sliding on the stone stairs, his elegant legs flinging in all directions as Peter watched in amusement. I could finally smile. Like I said before—it's wonderful how things can ease your terror. My visit to Jadis' castle _was_ nothing like it had been before. This time… I wasn't alone.

I drew nearer to the top step and saw another ghost from my past. This time it wasn't the White Witch, and it wasn't me. It was the familiar dark mass of fur sleeping like a statue beneath the archway. I could still hear Maugrim's raspy voice growling in my ear. My first taste of reality as he threw me to the icy floor and bared his fangs. The ghost lifted his head and watched me approach, with eyes the color of sapphires. I prepared myself for the rest of this story I already knew, and watched as the black wolf stood and darted towards me, muscles like liquid steel and teeth flashing in the moonlight.

I waited to hear Peter calling me back to reality, but instead I heard him scream.

"Ed! Watch out!"

I felt my body fly backwards as two gigantic paws collided with my chest, blowing out my startled breath. Those sapphire eyes stared down in me, glowing in the darkness as ferocious growls rumbled in the throat of the black beast on top of me. I should have felt afraid, but I was mostly just confused. The canine face just inches from mine was not the one I'd expected. It was close, a ghostly resemblance of the Witch's captain of police, but the eyes were brighter, and the face more beautiful and narrow.

"You're not Maugrim," was all I could say with weak breath as I struggled to suck in air despite the weight upon my chest.

I caught the surprise in the wolf's eyes. I was good at reading the wolves. It often surprised my family that I connected so well with them… after everything. But I guess if I could be forgiven despite association… why not they? My brother however, who was knighted by Aslan after slaying his first enemy, a wolf, did not connect so well.

"Get off him!" I heard my brother shout, and twisted my head to see the tip of Rhindon glaring unwaveringly at us. Pete's face was dark and angry, his stance ready. That sword remembered well its first kill. Jasper was right behind him, nostrils flaring and hoof pawing at the stone. But as the wolf turned to glower at its new enemies, I noticed a change in Jasper's eyes as well.

_Don't._ He said simply. None of us were sure who he was talking to. Perhaps all of us. _This isn't what any of us thinks it is._

"What _are_ you?" the wolf snarled, pressing his paw more firmly into my chest.

"I don't know what you are guarding," Jasper said quietly, in that calming voice he had. "But I can tell you that we're not here to harm it."

The wolf frowned. "How do you…" He snorted, and his voice became harsh again. "What are you here for then?" He didn't sound like Maugrim either. His voice was less rough. Younger. Anger didn't sound right in his voice. He sounded like the type who was meant to laugh. Like a schoolboy or an uncle you look forward to spending time with. I think this was what Lucy meant all those years ago when she said Mr. Tumnus was never meant to be as sad as he was when she found him. Sorrow and anger just don't work at all with some people.

"We don't know why we're here," I explained, and grunted. "But feel free to settle this _off_ my ribs."

He finally looked back down at me, curiously this time. I felt the pressure of his paws lighten. Peter was still standing ready. "Call off your dog first," the wolf muttered.

I actually laughed. It was such a funny thing for a wolf to say, and Peter's face became quite priceless.

"I really wish you knew who you were talking to," Pete snapped.

"Pete!" I grunted. "Down. You," I glared at the wolf. "Off!"

My brother lowered his weapon. With a reluctant snort the wolf stepped off me. Jasper was watching this all with amusement glittering in his eyes. I got to my feet with a grumble, brushing off my jerkin and sharing a light-hearted look with Jasper as Peter and the wolf watched each other warily.

"Who are you?" the wolf asked, an edge still to his voice.

"I feel so unfamous lately," I muttered. "Really, I thought we were more recognizable than this."

My wit did nothing to relax my brother. "Tell us who you are first," he demanded in his King voice.

"Are there more of you waiting to attack me?" I asked.

"No," he said solemnly. "Just me."

_Not just you_, Jasper corrected, and the wolf became surprised again.

"It takes some getting used to," I nodded. "What are you called?"

He stared at me a moment, his once bristled fur was slowly beginning to relax. But I still sensed the tension in his bones. "Faolchú," he replied.

I smiled. "I like it." It seemed a stupid thing to say, but there was something very Narnian about him… even his name. I liked him. Or maybe I was just partial to wolves. Unlike my brother.

"What are you doing here alone?" he asked, suspicion dripping from his voice.

"I have answered one of your questions already," Faolchú snapped. "You have yet to answer any of mine."

"We don't have to--"

"King Edmund," I interjected. "The Just." The wolf tore his gaze from Peter to stare up at me, eyes like moons and ears trembling in shock. I didn't give him time to respond. "An awful long time to wait isn't it?" I asked.

"For what?" he replied quietly.

"A Queen that will never come."

His pointed ears flattened against his neck. "I do not wait for _her_," he growled. "I wait for nothing."

"Please," I said. "Tell me why you're here. Narnia is free. Why stay prisoner?"

But Faolchú was still looking at me as if I were a ghost. All anger and suspicion was gone from his face. There was only wonder.

_He's a protector,_ Jasper supplied. "You're not waiting. You're _watching_."

"What are you watching?" Peter asked.

"Who is here with you?" I breathed. I felt the ice in my chest seeping through my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Faolchú's eyes darted between the three of us. I could see the wheels spinning in his brain, the panic in his face. I really felt for him just then.

"We won't hurt her," Jasper said gently. I didn't know how much he knew… but his insight was giving me chills. _Take us to her_.

One lingering look at each of us, then Faolchú turned around and silently led us deeper into the dark labyrinth of the castle.

I remembered this walk well. Following a black wolf through the hallways, then glowing blue, now dead and dark. I remembered how the smell of Mrs. Beaver's fish still lingered in my nose, and how there was a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me to turn back while I still could. I remembered how I already regretted drawing that mustache on the stone lion's face out in the courtyard, and how I had stupidly ran a hand through my unruly hair for the Queen. I remembered my footsteps echoing on the stone, my stomach growling for Turkish Delight, and the name of the newly-mentioned Aslan ringing unsettlingly in my ears.

I recalled the empty throne of shining ice. Sitting regally atop a flight of steps and draped in white fur. I remembered walking up to it, thinking _this is it. _I had been right in so many ways.

This time, the ice was now all black stone. There was no blue glow; the only light came from a dying fire built upon the floor. This time, I was well aware of the evil that dwelled within these walls. This time, my chest was engulfed by the freezing pain inside my heart. This time, my brother was not shouting for me outside the castle walls; he was standing beside me, staring up at the throne and gasping with the same degree of shock I felt flare up inside of me.

Because this time… the throne wasn't empty.

****

_A/N:::: There ya go! Hope it was enjoyable, and keeps you thirsty for more ;) All things will be revealed I promise... just not all at once ;). This chapter is dedicated to Monkey, who pushed me to continue, and who always makes me smile with her reviews. _

_****_


	8. A High and Lonely Destiny

_A/N:::::::: And I'm back again! I updated a little sooner than I did last time! So you can't all hate me too much ;) Ok, so this chapter is pretty different from all my others. A lot more talking/story-telling and less action. Sorry if it bores you, but I'm hoping this story is interesting enough to capture your interest anyway. This story was a MOTHER to piece together. It totally came from my imagination, but I was determined to keep it possible within the realms of CS Lewis's story. If you have read "The Magician's Nephew", you will see that this story definately ties into the stories told in chapter 5, "The Deplorable Word". I'll explain more at the end of this chapter if you're curious. Ok, so enough talking: I really hope you enjoy. Catch ya on the other side!_

_AND PLEASE FILL OUT MY THREE ONE QUESTION SURVEYS AFTER YOU READ THIS CHAPTER! IT'LL REALLY HELP ME WRITE THE REST OF THIS STORY!!!! THANK YOU!!!!_

:::::NIGHTFALL:::::

.The Story of King Edmund the Just.

::::CHAPTER EIGHT::::

.A High and Lonely Destiny.

I will always remember. I will always remember the way the winter sunlight filtered through the snowy boughs of the evergreens, and fell sparkling on the white powder before my slippered feet. I can't really recall why I was in slippers. I'd just escaped from somewhere, or thought I was escaping. I was freezing, and kind of scared, though I'd never admit it. There was music in the air, but I wasn't really listening. I was feeling angry, resentful, jealous, mischievous... and just downright rotten. I can't remember why. But I will always remember that my stomach was growling, my teeth were chattering, and I thought I'd never lay eyes on a woman half as stunning as the towering beauty in the pale gown standing before me. Never.

But there she was. Curled up on the fur-throw of Jadis's throne, her eyes shut in slumber and her near-purple lips parted as heavy breath escaped. She was like Jadis, if the Witch had possessed an ounce of goodness within her. This girl was smaller, younger-- probably no more than sixteen years old. Her hair curtained her pale face in tangled strawberry tresses. I was pleased she was sleeping... I couldn't imagine what I would do if I hadn't been given this much time to stare.

No one spoke. No one made a sound. But her eyes suddenly snapped open anyway. They were a shocking shade of indigo-- like dark planets against her porcelain face. At first, she did nothing, which seemed strange when you awaken to a gaping crowd of two star-struck kings, a wolf, and a scar-faced unicorn.

Slowly she straightened herself on the throne. Her eyes met mine, and a soft, sad smile graced her lips. "I remember you," she spoke gently.

I _had_ to stop laboring under the delusion that things couldn't get any stranger, because they always did. I blew out a painful breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and stared incredulously at the stranger.

"I honestly don't think we've ever met," I said breathlessly. _I would have remembered you,_ I added silently. I hoped Jasper couldn't read my thoughts-- it was embarrassing.

She gave that same smile and patiently smoothed out her dress of simple mint green satin. I had to force myself not to stare so open-mouthed. The last time I'd become so infatuated with a woman, it hadn't worked out so well.

"The poor faun wasn't the only neighbor you had," she replied.

"Where?"

"In the dungeons. Here."

A feeling of realization struck me across my dumbstruck face. "You were a prisoner too?"

Her smile grew sadder. "I still am."

That was when I finally noticed the delicate chain that was clasped around her ankle and draped down to the floor. It sparkled in the dim light-- the only ice that didn't seem to have melted.

Finally Peter spoke. I jumped, having almost forgotten my brother was even here. "How long have you been alone here?"

"Never alone," she replied. "I would have starved."

"I found her," Faolchú said, taking one step closer. "I had been alone in the woods on a scouting patrol, and when I returned to the castle, everyone was gone. The Queen, the police, the guards, even all the prisoners. The only one remaining was the girl. A prisoner I had never even seen before. She was mockingly chained to this throne. I have been unable to break the chain, and so have cared for her ever since."

"You didn't seek any help?" Peter asked.

Faolchú paused, his bright eyes watching us warily, and his answer was guarded. "She... asked me not to."

All eyes went to the girl for a reply, which was far-less guarded than her canine care-taker. "I knew no one in Narnia would agree to free me," she explained matter-of-factly. "I accepted that. I already had one blessing I didn't deserve," she gazed towards Faolchú. "A true friend. That was good enough for me."

"Why would no one free you?" I asked. I felt the blood pounding in my temples, the ice stabbing at my chest. I reached out absent-mindedly and placed a shaking hand on Jasper's shoulder. Funny how it steadied me.

The girl looked down at me with an unwavering gaze. It made me sweat. "I am the sister of the one you called The White Witch. My name is Chay."

*********

:::::As seen through the eyes of Jasper the Unicorn:::::

I knew it mere seconds before she spoke the truth. I was infinitley impressed with how the young female had concealed the truth from me for so long. This fact was undeniably linked to my destiny, and therefore should have been no secret to me the moment we stepped into the room and I scanned her mind. But I had read nothing there. It was like trying to see through a snow storm.

I had stood there quietly, opening my mind to any thoughts I could possibly receive. I caught Edmund shamefully admitting his attraction to the stranger. Which at first made me inwardly chuckle, then begin to worry. If I was catching this information, that could only mean it would somehow play out in my future. But I would address that later. I could feel that same feeling of fascination within King Peter as well, and once again I wrestled with amusement over boyhood hormones and fear over future uncertainties.

Then I was able to see the images in the wolf's mind as he recalled the day he discovered the stranger on the throne. He was not just coming back from some routine scouting patrol. I could feel the worry, fear, and doubt in his bones as he recalled this distant memory. He had been so young-- not much more than a wolf pup. His paws were still oversized  
sized and awkward. He had been hiding something then, and he was definitely hiding something now.

I could see in his mind's eye the girl crying on the Witch's throne of ice. She looked no younger back then than she did now. A curious issue to be sure, one the wolf had chosen to hide, and one that would have to be addressed later. Her strawberry hair was wild and stuck to her moistened cheeks, and her ankle was already black with bruises from the shackle.

That vision behind my eyes had been interrupted by Peter's voice, and Edmund's hand on my shoulder. It was strange how much his touch sent a wave of relaxation coursing through me.

But this feeling was fleeting. Because that was when I heard her ming speak the truth, and before I even had time to react, she was speaking it to everyone else.

Edmund's mental reaction was like a being hit by a charging minotaur. I couldn't put any words together, or even any resolute memories. It was all just fragments of emotions and images. The rotten taste of too much candy, the feeling of betrayal, the howl of a black wolf, the spray of melting snow hitting his face as he sat crumpled on the floor of a speeding sleigh, extreme helplessness, mocking yellow eyes in a beautiful face of porcelain, gut-wrenching self-loathing, a fox turning to stone... it was all too much. Edmund's body was pressing against me, and I struggled to keep my footing on the slippery stone despite his physical and emotional weight.

We were all rendered speechless, except for Peter-- who, despite his stunned demeanor, was still the most articulate. "W-why would Jadis hold her own family hostage?" he demanded, his fingers wrapped tightly around his hilt of his sword.

"Son of Adam," she cooed softly. "You of all people should understand the betrayal of a sibling."

The song of Edmund's sword as it was yanked from his sheath echoed off the dark stone walls as he pushed himself from my side and scowled across the length of the blade to the girl on the throne. "You talk just like her," he growled slowly.

"I'm a lot like my sister," she countered. "In many ways. But not the most important."

"And what is that?"

"I have no wish to kill you." Her words settled uneasily in the air before she continued. "Unlike Jadis, I have nothing to gain from your demise. I have no wish to rule this land. No kingdom to defend, or a false crown to cling to. I have only one wish, which long ago I accepted would never come true."

"Which is?" Peter prompted.

And then I saw it. I saw a city of handsome buildings. Of quiet chapels where flocks of bright birds would gather before the bells would send them bursting into the dark lavender sky. I saw beautiful people, more striking and taller than any human, striding along the walks of golden stone. There were fountains singing with the trickles of clear water, and brilliantly-spun curtains fluttering in every open window. Glistening rooftops, arches, and spires spread out beneath the sky as far as the eye could see, preparing to catch the blazing amber sun as it dipped into its evening resting place.

_She wants to go home_, I replied.

All eyes turned on me, even the dark indigo orbs of the imprisoned princess.

"Chay," I spoke gently. "Where is home?"

"Home," she muttered softly, lifting her face to a sun that wasn't there as the ghost of happiness graced her face. "It is called Charn. And to tell you my story of home would take more time than your legs could take standing."

"Our legs have brought us a very long and exhausting way to this castle," Peter spoke in a commanding voice. I couldn't read Edmund's thoughts at that moment, but I could feel the respect for his brother radiating from inside him. He was still watching Chay very intensely from behind his extended weapon. Peter continued, "And now that we are finally here, I would like very _much_ to hear your story."

Chay's face never became hostile. If anything, it softened slightly as she curled her chained feet up beneath her, and brushed her long hair from her face. "If I am to tell you my story, then I at least ask you all to sit."

"Why?" Edmund snarled.

She regarded him coolly. "It will feel less like an interrogation, Your Highness."

I could sense additional panic flare up inside him. "You seem to know more than you should."

Chay let out an amused sigh. "Why? Because I assumed you were a King of Narnia? It was my sister's greatest fear-- that the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve would take away her crown. You are here... she is not. Now where is the oddity in my assumption?" Edmund only glared. In his head I was constantly seeing the fragmented memories of Jadis bouncing through his thoughts like light shining through a broken window. It was very difficult for me to shut out the images he was unknowingly projecting to me. I tried very hard to focus on the blurry mind of the enigmatic young girl at the top of the stairs leading to the throne. As we all grew increasingly uncomfortable, Chay appeared to be settling into her throne contently. If it weren't for the chains, I would have sworn she belonged there.

"You're awfully scared of someone who is ensnared by chains, aren't you King Edmund?" she asked.

"I'm not scared," he replied. I knew better, but his voice was very convincing. If he wasn't speaking to someone such as Chay, I would have thought him the perfect liar. But Chay's returning smile read very unconvinced. "I know your kind. I know your magic," Edmund explained.

Finally Chay's face became unsteady. Her dark eyes flickered with sadness, and the corners of her lips fell slightly. "You know nothing of my magic, Highness. It is nothing like my sister's. And I assure you, it will not set me free. If anything, it only makes me more of a prisoner. And if you sit down and listen, perhaps you will better understand."

"Any story you tell me will be nothing more than a plea for us to release you," he countered. "And I know enough about your kind to know that you will say anything to gain your freedom."

"Funny how quick you are to condemn a fellow prisoner of the White Witch, King Edmund. You were quite eager to offer an ailing faun your only bite of food, but you won't even lend an ear to my story of imprisonment? I thought you would have changed for the _better_ by now...."

"I have changed. Thanks to your sister I no longer fall victim to a pretty face."

She smiled sincerely. It was not mocking, not defiant, not even amused. She honestly looked simply... flattered. "I promise you... my story will be nothing like a plea for my escape. I plan on telling only the truth. And the truth will scream out for you and your party to do nothing more than turn around, and leave me here."

I couldn't tell if it was her smile or her words that seemed to reach some deeper part of Edmund, but I watched as the tip of his sword wavered just a little, and his voice lost a slightest bit of its edge. "Why is that?"

"Because once I step outside these walls, the enchantment begins.... Once I step outside..."

And once again I saw the truth just seconds before she spoke them. I saw Charn again. I saw the great orange sun growing dark, filling with a dull red light, as if it were bleeding from within. I saw the shadows stretch, the sky darken, the air grow silent. I saw the end.

And so I finished her thought. _Once she steps outside,_ I told them_, Narnia begins to die._

*********

:::::As seen through the eyes of Peter the Magnificent:::::

If all else had failed to capture everyone's complete attention-- if Chay's stunning face, her chained and weakened body, the cautious wolf beside us, or the dark magic in the air still hadn't managed to ensnare our all our senses, then those last words certainly had. I felt my heart leap into my throat, choking out my articulate nature. My skill with words was not the only thing lost. Chay's words had choked out something in everyone: the wolf's dangerous protectiveness, Jasper's calming wit, even Edmund's biting suspicion. It left only a wake of stunned silence.

Finally, my brother spoke, all anger gone. "I thought you said your power was different."

"It _is_, King Edmund. Jadis brought the winter. I would bring darkness. I would bring silence. I would give birth to the end."

My breath was kicking me in the ribs with the tick of every silent second. I could tell that not even Faolchú knew of this magic, and even the spell of the girl's strange contentment seemed to have fallen. Now her indigo eyes were heavy with sadness, and her voice thick with regret. None of this seemed like a threat. It was all just what she had called it-- the truth.

"I want to know your story," Edmund said steadily. I had to admire his composure. As hard as this was for me, it had to have been even more impossible for him. I hated standing here, in the ghost of my little brother's footprints, where he had been trembling small and naïve before the Witch's alluring spell.

"Then sit down," Chay pleaded. "And I will tell it." I watched as Edmund cautiously lowered himself to the stone floor, laying his sword across his knees. The wolf began to sit before suddenly realizing I was only a yard away, and cast me a vicious glance as he stalked closer to the base of the stairs before us. I glared at his shaggy, dark back as he stared obediently up at his strange companion. I took a few steps nearer to my brother, and sat beside him. The only one who remained standing was Jasper. I imagine it's not too easy for a unicorn to sit comfortably on a stone floor. Instead he stood directly behind Edmund, so his front legs were right behind Ed's head. I watched Edmund distractedly lean back against him. It was sort of beautiful to watch... I even envied it a little.

The dying fire beside the throne thew haunting shadows across the face of the beautiful prisoner. Her skin was like pearl in contrast to the dark stone all around her... and the glistening chain like a spiderweb after a light rain. As Chay began to speak, I shut my eyes and erased all the visuals. I imagined I was in a warm bed. The dying fire was in the hearth, and the gentle voice belonged to the mother I could never remember having.

"Charn was a place of voices," she began. "Of children playing noisily in the streets, of the lows of cattle pulling carts, and the men chanting by the altars of the gods. It is a place where the women call to one another from their windows, and the words of the monarchs resound from their high places. The greatest and most revered voice of all is that of the prophets. Even the Kings and Queens must obey their commands. My older sister... who would be christened Jadis... was born under a new moon. It had been written by the prophets that any woman born when the sky was empty could never be Queen. And so my parents, the King and Queen, had no choice but to deny the throne to their first born. I was born years later, beneath the blinding darkness of a solar eclipse. The sky was not empty... but they didn't know then just how ominous that sign was....

"I was given the title of Princess-- a future Queen of Charn. But they were crowning the murderer of worlds. With every year that passed, the cursed magic I had been blessed with at birth continued to drain the life from the sun... like the way the vampires of the north would suck the blood from their prey. With every cycle of the sun throughout my life... it grew weaker. The air grew colder. The light became more red. My poor parents, too afraid to lose their youngest daughter and little princess to the angry masses, never revealed the truth behind our dying planet. They never told their people that it was their very child who was growing stronger with every passing year, as their home aged at an accelerated rate.

"I was crowned the year my father passed, as the youngest Queen in eons. All the while Jadis grew as cold and bitter as our darkening sun. And just as my magic grew with the death of our sun... my sister's magic grew with the blackening of her soul. Every angry thought, every jealous whim, continued to feed her powers.

"The year I was crowned marked the beginning of the end of our world. My powers had reached their peek, and I was draining the life from the sun more fervently than ever before. The sun was red now, and our brilliant city shrouded in constant twilight. One night, while I was crying myself to sleep yet again, my aging mother called upon one of the most revered Prophets. She asked him what was to be done. How long would we sit beneath the dying sun before our entire world was swallowed by its shadow... and only I remained....

"The prophet told her that unless my life was ended... our world would be dust before the dawn of the following year. Unbeknownst to both of them, my sister was hungrily listening in the shadows. My secret was no longer, and was now a weapon at the hands of Jadis. She used her knowledge of my deadly power as a catalyst to gather an army of followers. The words of the prophets meant nothing to these people. Looking back, I cannot blame them. I am not sure I wouldn't have been at my sister's back as well... if I had known how little time we had....

"A dark war erupted within our world. The followers of the prophets, and of their young Queen, pitted against the rebels led by my power-hungry sister. She claimed to be the bringer of light, and called me The Great Eclipse. It was perhaps the most flattering title she ever gave to me. It had such power to it... and my sister had always condemned me to mediocrity. I may not have been as ruthless as she, but I had been taught well in the ways of war. My age meant nothing then, and I led our troops into battles the universe had never seen. My mother watched from afar-- her eyes permanently glazed with tears. I didn't know then how selfishly she loved me-- to sacrifice the life of an entire world to save one daughter. She would rather die under my eclipse than to live in my sister's winter light.

"The war raged on for so many days, each day bringing me unknowingly nearer to the end of everything... everything but myself. I wish so deeply that I had known then. Perhaps it would have changed what I became. I am so ashamed of what I was. I lost so much of my innocence within that long year. I grew more thirsty for power, for the right to keep my crown, for revenge against my sister. The final battle of Charn raged for three days. It was within the space of that battle that I realized that not only was the dying sun giving me life... it was giving me power. I could harness the very energy of our world to propel my army forward. I could send my sister's forces diving into the crimson river as my chariot ran over their bones. I had broken the covenant. It was I, not Jadis, who crossed the line. We had promised not to use magic in our struggle for the throne. I didn't know when I made that covenant just how much power I had at my fingertips. And once I tasted the life of the sun on my tongue... I swallowed it whole. I let it fill me up, and it gave me the ability to crush anything in my path. I had become a monster.

"On the final day of the war, the sun was cold and dark in the sky. I had almost entirely eclipsed the light with my hunger. My sister stood at the pinnacle of the great terrace over-looking our mighty city. Her army had all but completely fallen before me, and now I was scaling the towering stairs to where Jadis was watching me like a falcon. The last of her soldiers had fallen, and I remember looking up at her with flashing eyes. I shouted 'victory!', and imagined returning home to my mother that night with the news that winter had been pushed back into darkness. My mother's face was my final thought before my sister grinned cruelly, and replied, "yes, victory... but not yours'.

"Then she spoke one word. The word was a secret our people had shied from for all of history. If spoken, it would lay waste to all living creatures but the one who spoke it. The deplorable word. My sister had learned it, and my breaking of our pact had spurred its fatal use. In that second the word escaped her lips, all life ended. My army, the cattle baying in their stalls, the children waiting for their fathers to return home from war, the servants in the fields, the prophets in the temples, the crickets in the crops, and my mother, crying in her bedroom. All gone forever. Only Queen Jadis remained."

My head was spinning when I opened my eyes. I looked dazedly around me. The wolf was statue-still, like Jadis's stone victims that littered the battlefield of Beruna so many years ago. Jasper stood with his wild, golden eyes unblinking and his broad sides heaving in stunned and husky breaths. Edmund was no longer leaning against him; sometime during Chay's story, as I was shutting my eyes, my brother had stood silently, and walked to stand at the base of the stairs. His sword was laying forgotten on the stone floor, and he was regarding the stranger with an odd mixture of fascination and familiarity. Chay was watching him too. I felt jealousy rise up within me, and with surprised confusion I bedded it back down quickly.

"But you're here," Edmund breathed. "How?"

Chay took a deep breath. "My sister's magic was stronger than I had ever imagined. But I had the life of a world within me. One word was not enough to kill. Instead I was thrown into the sky, far from the dust of the world I had helped destroy. I became a star and spent thousands of years beside the sun I had drained. I hung in the blackness, watching the utter stillness of my home. Watching as my sister placed herself under a sleeping enchantment, as the sick sun continued to hardly sustain the empty world beneath us, as the stillness screamed inside my head, and finally, as a pair of lost human children stumbled upon my sister's trap and awoke her from her enchantment.

"I watched helplessly as they whisked her away. I didn't know where she had gone, but now that she was awake again, I was determined to find her. To exact my revenge. True, I had been killing our world, but my sister had cruelly left it in eternal limbo. I had spent thousands of years as Jadis slept rebuilding my strength. I constantly prayed for my rebirth, for the ability to find Jadis and destroy her. I'm not sure how much time passed after she and those poor children vanished that I awoke one lonely morning to a pair of warm, golden eyes staring down at me. For so long all I ever saw was the black, and the twilit streets of my world. This time a horrible, beautiful, and dangerous face was staring down at me. I was no longer a star. I was me again, floating in a warm sea of nothing but white light.

"'Choose your prison,' he said. 'What prison?' I asked. I was so afraid, but still my mind was already wrapping itself around the plot against my sister. 'Choose your prison,' he repeated firmly. 'Sky or snow?' I told him I wanted no prison. I only wanted revenge. 'I tire of the sky!' I recall shouting. I thought I was so clever. And with sad eyes and a heavy breath, he blew me from the warm sea of white, and my eyes opened to a sea of white much much colder than before. Snow was filling every part of my body, and I had to pull myself into the freezing, open air. I remember lying on my back in the middle of a forest beneath the night sky. I was no longer the Queen I was before in Charn. All the strength I had stolen from my home had vanished, and I felt crippled beneath the stars of this new world. I knew I would have to hide a long while, sucking the life from this new sun before I would be strong enough to find and destroy Jadis.

"But luckily I never got the chance. That lion (for now I know well who that was) would never let me end this world. I had only one night to admire the stars from such a refreshing distance before a pack of wolves discovered my broken body and brought me to their Queen. The White Witch... my sister... was overjoyed to have me under her thumb once more. She locked me deep inside her castle... far from the sun, where I could never kill her beloved Narnia, where I could never gain the strength to defeat her, and watched her winter cover me just as it had this world. But it was my fault. You see... with my choice of revenge, I had chosen my prison.

"For near a hundred years I wasted away in that cell. One day a small boy was marched into the dungeons and thrown into the cell beside me. I watched him curiously through a small crack in the ice as he cried into his folded arms, and handed an injured faun a scrap of bread. This was a Son of Adam? _This_ was what my all-powerful sister was so afraid of? This boy could bring an end to what I could not? Even with the power of an entire world coursing through me? I would have laughed... if it weren't for his eyes...."

I watched as Edmund stared at her unwaveringly. I wanted to stand beside him, to look at his face, to better read his expression, to see Chay from his perspective. But I couldn't move.

"His eyes held something I had not seen in a long time. And as I listened to his story, as my sister spoke of what he had done to his family, I couldn't help but feel a strong sense of connection. He had chosen his prison as well."

I watched as Edmund's gaze faltered for just an instant, but then was magnetically drawn back to her face.

"The boy was taken from his cell, and my sister was preparing to hunt down the rest of her human quarry. Before she left she yanked me from the dungeons for the first time in almost a century. The last I saw of The White Witch was her mocking grin as she fettered me to her throne. 'I'm sure you've missed the feeling,' she sang, and draped a chain around my neck. On the chain dangled a strange, twisted key of beautiful ice."

Chay reached into her thick hair and pulled the chain from around her neck. A gnarled crystalline key glittered in the weak firelight.

"The only ice that hasn't melted, aside from my chains," she said. "She smacked the key into my palm and smiled only an inch from my face. 'Only a human can use this key,' she told me. 'If by some impossible chance I never return, the humans will come looking for you. Gain their trust,' she told me, 'They will set you free. And you will step out into the sunlight. Live with them, eat with them, bask in their love, and gradually... kill their world. Absorb their world right beneath their feet." Chay chuckled coldly to herself. "I remember her final words to me more than anything. 'I have never loved you, sister,' she crowed as she walked away from her throne... 'But I would rather see this world swallowed in your eclipse than ruled by humans'." Chay released a shaky breath. Then her eyes finally met mine. "But I never wanted any of that, Kings of Narnia. My sister never did return. My salvation came in the form of a lost wolf. In the presence of Faolchú my prison melted, and I found almost complete peace. I have told you the truth because I have no wish to destroy your world. One time was terrible enough. All I ask is to remain here."

Jasper then spoke. "That is the first lie I have been able to detect within you, Queen of Charn."

Chay blinked in surprise. "It is not a lie. It _is_ all I ask."

"But not all you want."

She smiled in understanding. "True. You are a rare creature, unicorn."

"What is it you want then?" Edmund asked. "Revenge?"

"Not anymore," she replied sadly. "It has gotten me nowhere. And my sister has already been defeated by those far greater than myself."

"It was Aslan who defeated Jadis," I interjected. "Not us."

"All I know is it was not me. I failed twice. Revenge is over. All I want is to return home."

"To Charn?" the wolf spoke for the first time in so long that I almost had forgotten his presence. "I thought you said Charn was almost entirely dead, Chay."

She nodded, her eyes glazed with distant memories. "It is. But Charn is the only place I can be without guilt. I can walk beneath the sun in the empty streets I had walked as a small child, and my power will be harming no one now. My final days will be spent with the final days of the sun, and then my world will finally end its time in Purgatory, and become entirely shadowed in my Great Eclipse."

"Then what about you?" Edmund asked. And in utter shock I realized he was slowly scaling the staircase to Chay's side. I was finally able to stand as I watched him reach the top and come to stop just a foot away from her. "What happens then?"

Chay offered him a bittersweet smile. "I am unsure, King Edmund. But it must be done. You understand don't you? Redemption is far from a science... it is a feeling in your bones. It becomes an obsession. Living forever in sin is far worse than facing the unknown in the first steps of rebirth. I know in my bones that my destiny is to end what I began, even if that means the end of me. Or the end of happiness with another..." she looked lovingly down at Faolchú, who was whining softly beside me now. "People like us, Edmund... people who choose our prison... we can sometimes choose to end it all. One brief decision, that no matter how dangerous, how lonely, just seems worth it."

I was picturing my younger brother just then, running with his sword drawn to the Witch as she marched towards me. I was remembering his face as he landed beside her, the resolute glitter in his eye as he broke her wand in two. I could still see that glitter, even after her wand was plunged into Edmund's ribs. And I could see that glitter now, in Chay's eyes, as she smiled sadly at my brother and said, "Edmund... ours is a high and lonely destiny."

********

_A/N:::::::: There you go! Whew, what a tale and a half to construct! Hope it wasn't too confusing! I definately had to go back into "The Magician's Nephew" and study their first meeting with Jadis in Chap 5 and the story she told them. If you have the book, check it out again and look for where this whole tale fits in! Jadis mentions her sister, and how their battle for the throne was what spurred her to use the Deplorable World. She mentions the dying sun, and the way the final battle of Charn ended with her sister scaling the steps to the terrace. The two children who awaken Jadis from her enchantment are Digory and Polly of course. And the book even mentions that the only things in the sky above Charn is the dying sun and a bright star beside it (yep-- that's our girl Chay up there). And the final words spoken in this chapter, also the chapter title, are also spoken by Jadis when she speaks of life as Queen. Hope you guys liked this chapter! Much more to come. I adore all of you for reading and sending me all your thoughts and encouragement. _

xoxo --Teek

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	9. Close to the Heart

_A/N::::::::: Back already! I made up for the lateness of my past two chapters by getting you all an update before you had time to blink! ;) I was so so VERY pleased and flattered by the last reviews you all left. Thank you so much for your awesome words and thoughts. They honestly and truly push me to write more and write faster! I hope this chapter is a good follow-up to the last one. Oh! And just a side-note: I changed my user icon to one of Edmund and Jasper, so visit my profile page if you're interested in seeing the dynamic duo ;) And while you're there, PLEASE visit my current Nightfall poll atop the page. It takes THREE seconds to fill out and it really helps with future writing :)_

_You guys all rock so much. Thank you for making this such a joy._

_******_

:::::NIGHTFALL:::::

.The Story of King Edmund the Just.

::::CHAPTER NINE::::

.Close to the Heart.

I don't know what had compelled me to scale the steps to the stand beside Chay's throne. I've been known not to think things through very well before I do them. Susan often said that what I lacked in brains, I made up for in empty space. Boy, did I miss her.

Chay's lonely smile still lingered on her lips, and my heart was still thrashing about in my chest. That icy prick inside me was more prevalent than ever... but it didn't hurt as much. It felt... different. It wasn't stabbing me so much; it was more of a rhythmic pulsing now. Almost like a second heartbeat.

"How would you get home?" I asked with a dry throat. "Where is Charn?"  
She shook her head sadly. "I don't even think it lies in your sky, King Edmund. Charn belongs to a dimension different from that of Narnia's."

I frowned. "Are you saying there are other realities outside of this?" I snorted, which I had to admit sort of shattered the moment. But sometimes I couldn't repress the old Edmund no matter how I tried. "What a ridiculous idea."

"So the thought of me swallowing worlds and becoming a star doesn't sway you... but the notion that there could be other dimensions besides your own seems impossible?" She giggled softly. "You're an odd and stubborn creature."

"I've been called much worse. So then how do you think your sister came to be here? When the children whisked her away?"

"There are means of reaching other worlds. Magic is everywhere. And I know how Jadis arrived in your world. She told me. You see, for all the darkness my sister possessed, her greatest darkness of all was her over-whelming loneliness. She would never admit it, but Jadis yearned for someone to commune with... someone she considered an equal. And as much as she hated me, I really believe I was the closest thing to an equal she thought she would ever find. And so she would sometimes, on horrible nights when the wind was howling, visit my cell. She would sit just outside the iron bars, and speak with me. She would never bring a candle, so I hardly ever saw her face. There would only be a dark form silhouetted against the blue ice, and a voice of bitterness speaking to me as if she were speaking to herself. I almost never responded. I would only listen. I was as abashedley hungry for company as my sister."

"So she told you how she traveled between worlds?" Peter asked from the base of the stairs. As drawn as I was to Chay's side, I truly wished I had stayed below. I wanted to be beside him. Beside Jasper.

Chay nodded. "It was by means as simple as two tiny rings created by a common man outside both my world... and Narnia. Some distant and strange reality of which my sister rarely spoke. I think it actually frightened her. These rings, when touched or worn, could transport any soul into an enchanted forest. A wood between the worlds. The trees would stand silent, and the forest floor is littered with endless pools of still water. Not a single breath of wind creates the slightest ripple. These pools carry you to different worlds. That is how my sister came to be here."

I didn't think my eyes could get any wider, that my heart could pound any harder, and that my mind could spin faster. Jadis had done so much, seen so many things. It seemed a wonder that she had ever been defeated. But then I instantly remembered the face of love atop that hill beside the Stone Table. The face that had seen so much more, had done everything there was to be done, and had swallowed the Witch's winter as easily as one stamps a single ant into the dirt.

"But those rings have long since vanished with the passing of time," Chay continued. "And that wood between worlds is secret to all but two."

"Who?" Faolchú asked. He was almost as close to Chay now as I; the wolf had paused halfway up the stairs, head cocked curiously and sapphire eyes blazing.

"A pair of magicians. My sister spoke of them once before. They, like Jadis, were there when Narnia was first created. When Aslan's song first filled the air, their eyes opened and their minds brought to life. Few creatures alive today can say they have been there."

I took a moment to glance down at Jasper, who was blinking up at me. I couldn't help but wonder....

"These magicians have spent their long days absorbing all the magic of Narnia. A kind of magic that no monarch from my world ever came to know. My sister told me that they alone possessed the knowledge of how to reach the wood between worlds. Jadis met them shortly before she managed to conquer Narnia and shower it in snow. I believe it was their meeting that spurred my sister to success. While they did help her secure her throne, they managed to vanish before providing her with the knowledge she yearned for more than anything. Jadis spent much of her reign attempting to ensnare these sorcerers. She was determined to find them once more, and to force from them this secret location. Because once she had free access to the pools...."

"She could spread winter everywhere," I finished.

Chay nodded solemnly. "But she never found them. No one ever could. But Jadis was certain they were still out there. I am too. My sister may have been many terrible things, but she understood magic."

"Not all of it," I muttered to myself, thinking of a Deep Magic inscribed along a stone table that the Witch had never truly understood.

But Chay did not pay my words any mind. "I use to pray that the two magicians would come and find me. That they would take me to the Wood and send me home, to live out the rest of my life in peaceful solitude. But they never came. And I have never even dreamed of looking for them. That would no doubt take many long years, and by the time I even grew close to finding them... your world would suffer the same fate as mine...."

I closed my eyes and thought of my Narnia... dying. I had seen it buried under enchanted snow, but even then it had been beautiful. This would be different. I pictured the trees of my Western Wood with sickly bare branches stretching into a weak, reddened sun. I thought of the Great Fall dried up and silent, of the Eastern Sea empty and nothing but dust. I pictured the cold, stale wind of a dying world whipping through the trees, which sang no more, and across the plains, which were empty of all creatures. I shuddered and quickly snapped my eyes back open. Chay was watching me carefully, as if she could see behind my eyes.

"I would never wish that upon you, Your Highness," she whispered.

_Which is why you need us._

Jasper's mental voice surprised us all. He had remained so uncharacteristically silent for so long, and now hearing his words again was like watching an old friend walk through your door. But of course, with Jasper's words came an unnerving sense of mystery.

Chay smiled in delighted surprise. "You know more than I would have imagined, Unicorn. Perceptive as well as striking."

Once again I could see a smirk in Jasper's strange eyes. "Now you're just trying to flatter me," he replied dryly. He was apparently the least affected of all of us by Chay's mysterious charms. I smiled inwardly. Good for him. "Perceptive I am. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like a few things cleared up."

"That makes two of us," I muttered.

"Why are we your only chance?" Jasper continued. "Why would we know the location of these enchanters?"

"You wouldn't," she said, then her eyes flickered with doubt. "At least... you shouldn't. But you, Unicorn, have already proven to know more than I had anticipated. But King Edmund might."

I blinked stupidly. Peter actually threw his arms up in defeat. I didn't blame him; this was becoming far too weird. "Why would I know?" I asked skeptically.

"The answer is in your heart," she explained illusively.

I raised a brow. Her enchanting spell was wearing thin with the passing of ever frustrating second. But she didn't seem to mind. "Beautiful," I muttered. "But can you elaborate?"

She laughed quietly. "I don't mean it the way you think. The key to finding the ones I seek is actually located within your heart. Or very near it at least. You don't know the location of these magicians in your mind. It's a feeling you have, one that tugs at your chest." I placed my hand over my heart, pressing against Peter's borrowed jerkin, and watched with baited breath as Chay once again reached into her thick hair and pulled out that shining crystal key from around her neck. "It's the same thing that pulled you to this. The same thing that brought you here... after all these years."

"Tell us what it is," Peter demanded softly, and his voice was so close it caused me to jump. I hadn't even realized that he had climbed the stairs to stand right behind me. I twisted my neck to look him in the eye; I still hadn't removed my hand from my chest. I knew what it was.

"It's the wand, Pete," I whispered. "Jadis's wand lead me here."

Chay smiled in response. She had so many different smiles. In the short moments I had spent talking with her I had already seen so many kinds... they were her answer for almost everything.

"Very right, King Edmund."

"How do you know about that wound?" I asked.

"I can feel it," she explained simply. "Just as you do. In all the years I forcefully spent in my sister's company, she never entirely told me how she came to acquire that amazing wand of hers. I know that the long, icy stone at its tip was a prize she treasured. The ability to change its victims to stone was not its only power. That was just the darkest one... the one Jadis chose to harness. But that was a living stone. It had a heart to it... a magic deeper and more beautiful than someone like my sister could ever understand. With that crystal Jadis created her precious wand, and this," she held the strange key higher. It glittered beautifully in the faded firelight.

"She used something as precious as that stone just to make a key?" Faolchú asked, now also at my side. We were all at the top of the stairs now, except for Jasper, who stood silently below us. His front hooves were on the bottom step, and his wild eyes danced in the haunting light. He looked like a ghost all the way down there.

"Something tells me this key is not for one purpose only. I don't believe it only serves to unfetter these enchanted chains. But no matter what its purpose, it has burned coldly against the skin of my chest for six long years. I've wanted so many times to toss it into the fire. But... I don't know. Something always stopped me. Perhaps it was just the fear of losing my only chance of escape. But I think it was something deeper than that." She looked at me again. "And with you here, King Edmund... I'm beginning to understand why. I can feel the tug at my chest, and I can feel the tug within yours. Some bit of my sister's wand lies within you, and apparently the mysterious crystal is trying to piece itself back together."

I blew out a heavy breath, and slowly lowered my hand it my side. "What does all this have to do with finding your enchanters?" I asked.

"They possess the final piece. The shattered remains of the Ice Queen's wand."

"How do you know?" my brother asked.

"Because they helped her create it. The wand. This is one of the few pieces of that story my sister ever revealed. She said it was impossible to retrieve the crystal without them. And so the one and only time Jadis ever met with the enchanters, they gave her the ultimate weapon, her prize possession, and then vanished into the shadows. I have no doubt that with my sister gone... the wand and the stone will be theirs once more." Her deep, indigo eyes bore into me. "Wherever they are hiding... the tug at your heart will lead us there."

Over the course of this story, my brow had become furrowed. My eyes had grown sharp and dark and my breath hurt my lungs. "This is what you wanted all along," I growled. "You wanted me to hear your sorrowful story, to release you using that key as only a human can, and to set you free into our world. It's been your plan to use me all along."

"I'm sorry to have upset you, King Edmund," she spoke softly. Her calmness was infuriating. "I told you before, I am content to remain here, in the company of Faolchú."

"I will not leave you," the wolf said resolutely.

"Thank you, old friend," she smiled down at him before returning to watch me. "I understand where your suspicions come from. The misfortune of your ill-favor is far from the first curse my sister has bestowed upon me. My desire to find the sorcerers, to return home to Charn, are all just a dream. A dream I chose to share with you. I am sorry my presence has brought you all such a long way from your home. I wish you only the safest of journeys back."

I felt Peter's hand on my arm. "A word?" he whispered in my ear.

"Now?"

His response was in his best big-brother tone. "Now."

King or not, sometimes it was really hard not to feel like a baby brother.

"May we have a moment please?" Peter asked Chay.

She looked up at him with all the sweetness in the world. It was becoming unbearable. "Absolutely. Please don't be upset with your brother, King Peter. I see the worry in your eyes. Please try and understand where his conflict is coming from. His words do not upset me in the least."

"What a relief," I muttered, as Peter continued to roughly shove me down the stairs, away from the throne. I almost slipped and fell about ten steps down.

"I understand more than you know," Peter replied earnestly, and followed me down the steps.

My brother was actually still shoving me after we had fully descended the stairs; it was pretty funny really. I was wishing I was watching it from afar though-- it'd be funnier that way. "You coming?" I shot at Jasper as we hustled past him.

He turned his large white head to watch us head towards the corridor entryway. "Am I invited?" he asked, his voice light with delighted surprise. Without waiting for a reply, he turned around and clopped against the stone floor behind us.

"What is the _matter_ with you?" I demanded the second we were in the shadowed sanctuary of the corridor.

"What's the matter with _you_?" he hissed, finally releasing his hold on me as I angrily shook him off. "I mean, I've become accustomed to your lack of tack around women, but this is hitting new lows, Ed."

"What are you talking about?" I frowned. "Are you actually falling for that sob story she just told us?"

"It sounds completely plausible to me, and the fact that you're not treating her with an ounce of sympathy is astounding."

"Sympathy?" I spat. "You heard the past she led. She's not exactly what you would call a Saint, Pete. She was just another witchy war-hound who just happened to get the short end of a misguided crusade."

"I've known you your entire life, Edmund, and I know you're lying to yourself. You could tell as soon as I that she's different than Jadis. But just because she reminds you of her, just because she had the misfortune of being her sister, doesn't mean she deserves your hatred. Cut her some slack, Edmund. You're supposed to be King Edmund the _Just_, remember?"

I blew out an immature snort. "Please... we both know that was Aslan's only bad move. That title had _never_ suited me."

"Not true," he interrupted. "You just don't want it to."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's always easier not to make the right decision. The just choice. But you always know deep down what the best thing is. And now is no different. She's suffered more than enough for her past sins. You of all people should understand that."

I flashed my eyes at him, before Jasper finally spoke. At least in our minds. _The wolf is watching,_ he informed us simply.

Our heads whipped around to see the glowing sapphire eyes of Faolchú staring warily at us from the shadows beside the arched entryway.

"This doesn't concern you, wolf!" Peter spat angrily. I had to chuckle at that. Talk about unfair judgment....

I saw that familiar defiant fire ignite in the wolf's eyes as he took a bold and determined step forward. "It concerns me very much, Young King," he growled. "Chay is my responsibility and my friend. I will hear all your thoughts on her."

"If you think--"

"Peter!" I snapped. "Calm down. There's nothing I need to say that he can't hear. I have made up my mind, and I'm going home."

"Just like that?"

I sighed wearily. "I miss our sisters. I miss Cair Paravel. I miss Phillip." I cast a guilty look at Jasper, and actually saw his cool demeanor falter for a moment as his golden eyes shifted about and his head dipped a bit lower. I wanted to explain what I meant... how Phillip wasn't the same. How Phillip was a memory of better days. Of a simpler time. Of hunting at night and coming home with the sun. Jasper came from a darkness I wanted to shake. He reminded me of uncertainty. Of insecurity, fear, and a mystery that seemed better off unsolved. But I wanted to tell him. I wanted to explain how despite all that, I needed him.

But I was never good with words. That was Peter's specialty.

"I miss them too," he assured me. "All of it. But this is what we signed up for, Ed. This is what we're meant to do. As much of a fight I may have given you before we came here, I finally understand. After all these years of carrying that... burden around with you," he pointed to the invisible iciness within my chest, "You'll finally be able to put it to good use. You can use your sacrifice to help someone who needs it. Someone who identifies with you. Someone who, if you give it a chance, you can identify with as well."

I paused and regarded him carefully. "You just like her," I observed. "You like this girl, Peter. I'm sorry. It's just a trick. I'm doing you a favor."

My brother blew out a frustrated breath and raked his hand through his hair. "Get a grip, Ed. This isn't the same thing. Chay is _not_ Jadis. She made mistakes. She paid her penance. Now you have the chance to take her home. To end this peacefully."

"At what price, Peter?" I demanded. "You heard what she said-- about her powers. What if I can't find these sorcerers? What if it takes far longer than we had planned? Every second we look with her for these people, Narnia draws nearer to death. Are you really ready to risk our home, and _everything _in it, for someone we just met?"

"I am," he replied steadily. "I trust that Aslan brought us here for a reason."

"Aslan didn't bring us here," I snapped. "Jasper did." I cast a dark glance his way. "Thanks, by the way," I muttered. He only tilted his head and smiled in his funny way.

Peter shook his head. "You're lying to yourself again. You know Aslan has a hand in this."

I just stared stonily at him, trying to steady my breath and ease the throbbing inside my chest.

Peter tossed his arms into the air. "What do you want to do then? Turn around? Leave Chay chained to the throne, make the long journey back home, and spend every night lying in your bed with that iciness poking at your heart while you constantly wonder what you _could_ have done?"

His words sunk deep. I lost some of my heat, and the fire in my eyes flickered uncertainly. When I spoke again it was weakly. "It feels too much like last time."

Peter nodded understandingly. "I get that, Ed. But it's not. I'm here this time. And this time you wouldn't be making a decision based on your own wants. You'd be making a decision based on someone else."

I exhaled. I kept expecting to see my breath in this castle. I kept forgetting it was summer in Narnia. I looked down at Faolchú, who had been silently watching us this whole time. I kept thinking about when I first heard him speak in the courtyard-- how alien the desolation in his voice had seemed. He stared back at me unwaveringly. Then I tore my gaze from his and met the curious eyes of Jasper.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing here," he confessed. "To be honest, I'm a bit disappointed. I thought I was needed for something, but according to Chay it is you, not I, that can lead her to the enchanters. So I'm not sure what lead me here, what lead me to you.... I can only guess that I haven't encountered my ultimate purpose yet. If you choose to turn around, to just go back and live life as is... then I have this horrible fear that I'll never know what that purpose is." His eyes gained a bit more of their crazed glitter as he smiled. "No pressure."

I anxiously scratched the back of my neck, blowing out a shaky breath. As I began to turn back to the throne room, I brought my face inches from Pete's. I could see every fleck of hazel hidden in his blue eyes. "Aslan help us all if you're wrong," I choked out. "I can't take the guilt of hurting Narnia again. I can't."

"You won't," he promised, and followed me into the chamber.

Chay had reclined further into the throne, kicking her feet over one armrest while resting her back against the other. She didn't even acknowledge the fact that we had reentered the chamber. She was humming softly to herself as she busied herself over something I couldn't see at this distance in the weak light. She looked beautiful, but at that moment I didn't care.

_You're under no spell, _I had to keep repeating to myself as I drew nearer. _You're under no spell._

_You're under no spell_, Jasper spoke silently to me. I felt my muscles relax just the slightest.

Both Jasper and Faolchú stopped following once Peter and I began to scale the steps. Chay did not lift her eyes from her hands until I had stopped at the final step. "Kings," she smiled in greeting.

I looked down at the bit of wood in her hand. It was pale, soft, and supple. A small slab of birch. In her other hand was a delicate knife of twisted stone, and I had to stop myself from backing up. Wooden shavings were scattered in the sea of her dress on her lap. I couldn't tell what she was carving yet.

"What are you making?" I asked.

"I never know until it's done."

I took a nervous breath, feeling all eyes upon me-- especially my brother's. "What do I need to do? To release you."

She eyed me carefully. "You need to be right with it first, Your Highness. I will not leave until I know it was what you want."

"I don't know if it will ever be what I want," I replied bluntly. "But it's what needs to be done."

"And you're certain of that?"

I frowned. Why was she trying to talk me out of it? _Was_ she? Was this another trick? She had already confessed how much like her sister she really was.

"They have discussed it at great length, Chay," Faolchú spoke from below. "It is as right with his heart as it ever will be. They wish to help you."

Chay's serious expression lightened with a delighted smile. "Then I am truly pleased. You are a courageous and just king."

I blew out an ironic chuckle, to which she did not respond. "What am I to do?" I asked again.

Once more Chay reached for the chain around her neck, coming to a less relaxed sitting position as she carefully pulled the necklace over the thick hair. I watched the icy key, which was hardly shape like a key at all, dangle before me. The firelight winked in its crystal depths and Chay's eyes regarded me carefully from behind it. "I don't know," she finally confessed.

My eyes widened, and before I could reply I heard my brother exclaim, "You don't know?"

She shook her head. "My sister never told me. Only that a human would be the only one to use it. A strange fact, considering how much she despised them."

"Well where is the lock to your chains?" I asked.

"There isn't one. See for yourself. The chains run from my ankle, and meld into the stone of the throne. There is no lock, no link to disconnect. It simply becomes one with the stone."

"Terrific," I muttered, and reached out to grab the key dangling before me. My fingers wavered just centimeters from it for a moment; I could feel my palms sweating. My hand grasped the twisted key and I felt the icy splinter in my chest kick me in the ribs, blowing the air from my lungs.

"You all right?" Peter and Chay both asked at once.

I coughed and sputtered, feeling the pain ebb just a bit as my heart continued to beat irregularly. "Not really," I gasped. I stumbled to the side of the throne, searching desperately for a hidden lock to the enchanted chains. But there wasn't one. The links of ice just shimmered mockingly beautiful in the firelight. I tried to steady my breath as the cold in my chest burned and throbbed, and I felt Peter beside me, also frantically searching for an answer.

"Ed, give me the key!" he kept demanding. But I only shook my head and held on. For some insane reason I didn't want to let it go, and I remembered what Chay had told me about not being able to throw the key into the fire, despite the pain it had caused her.

I bent to the floor, forehead beaded with sweat and hands fumbling around the base of the throne. My fingertips touched the ice chains, and the cold bit at my skin in a way the key didn't. I was startled by the sound of sniffing close to my ear, and jumped to see Faolchú beside me, nosing helplessly for an answer. Even Chay had finally stood from her seat. I was too preoccupied to look at her; I only sensed her form standing anxiously over me as her chains clanked across the stone with her movement.

"God Ed, I'm sorry," Peter hissed as he knelt beside me. "Please, just give me the key."

I looked up at him; his eyes were already boring into me, guilt-stricken and bright with worry. I couldn't relinquish the key, as much as I may have wanted to. And I couldn't explain why. Instead all I did was stare at him, exclaiming stupidly, "Ouch!"

My heart kicked once more against my ribs, like a child throwing a tantrum, and reflexively I clasped my hand to my chest. The pain eased just the slightest at that touch-- the kicking in my ribs slowed. I frowned curiously and gazed down at my hand, where the key was still clutched inside my clenched fist.

_That's it,_ Jasper spoke into my frenzied mind. _You've got it_.

I couldn't see him, but I could picture his self-satisfied grin as he read the truth in my mind before I knew what it was. I struggled to understand his meaning, fiddling with the key in my hand as my breath continued to come up short. I lifted the key to examine it, and felt the burning inside me increase. Once again I brought my fist to my chest, and once again I felt the pain numb just a bit. Then, finally, like the sunrise breaking over the mountains, I understood.

I fumbled with shallow breaths to spread open the chain, and slid the necklace over my head. The key dropped into my collar and settled against my bare skin, and in the very instant, the pain stopped. My breathing returned, my lungs stopped burning, my heart slowed, and the sharp icy pain inside me stopped pricking. Instead the iciness within me was once again just a distant cool spot in my chest, pulsating rhythmically like the beating of a second heart. I began to wonder just how alive the stone from the witch's wand truly was.

"Edmund..." Peter breathed, and I looked to see him staring open-mouthed at the chains beside the throne. They were melting like icicles thrown into the fire, quickly vanishing into puddles of silvery water on the stone floor. I lifted myself from the ground and stood to watch Chay's smile widen on her face. The last puddle of enchanted water gathered at her feet, now covered by the hem of her lengthy green dress. The minty dress itself looked like water, cascading elegantly from the straps around her bony shoulders. She was just as tall as me, but still appeared fragile and delicate, like fine china after a hundred years of use. It's still beautiful, but just a little sad, and extremely breakable.

With a gasp of joy, Chay lifted her dress enough to examine her skinny ankle just above her slippered feet. It was now entirely bare... even the bruises from the fetters had melted away. When she lifted her eyes to look at me, they were brimming with tears. I watched one silvery drop fall from her lashes and slide down her porcelain cheek as she smiled at me.

"Thank you, King Edmund."

I could only nod. I suddenly felt exhausted.

"Can we leave now?" Peter asked beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder that I readily welcomed. "I hate this place."

Chay laughed lightly. It was like the sound of the wind chimes in Sue's private garden outside her bedroom. The garden she filled with roses so their summer perfume would float into the castle and linger on all our tapestries. Nothing about Jadis ever reminded me of home. This was a refreshing change. But I was still horrified when we all began to descend the steps and walk back towards the courtyard. There was a puppy-like bounce in Faolchú's step as he bounded at Chay's side. She walked delicately across the floor, like it was thin ice rather than stone. Peter was in the front of the group, though he kept watching us warily over his shoulder. I walked behind them all but for Jasper, whose hooves I heard just behind me.

I waited until his pink nose was even with my face. "So you knew that I needed to put the chain over my head."

He gave that predictable smile. "Just moments before you did," he confessed. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

I placed my hand over the small bump in my jerkin. "What do you think would happen if I took it off?" I asked.

Jasper eyed me carefully. "Are you willing to find out?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Not really, to be honest. I'm sort of terrified of the idea of feeling that kind of pain again. Plus... I don't know what it would do to Chay." Jasper only nodded distractedly; his golden eyes focused ahead as we neared the outer door. "You're worried," I observed, causing his head to snap around in surprise. It was nice to be the perceptive one every now and then.

"Perhaps a little," he agreed.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Besides the obvious," I gestured to Chay's back.

"It's not her," he replied. "Not yet, anyway. It's the key."

"The key?"

A hot, heavy gust of wind blew from Jasper's large nostrils before he said, _I just don't like to trust anything that close to the heart._

His words had little opportunity to echo in my mind before I noticed that I was stepping into sunlight. It had become morning since we'd stepped into the castle, and the newly awakened sun was creeping its glow into the entryway. I felt its warmth on my face the second I stepped into its pinkish-gold shaft. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt, a prick of panic. Was I bringing the sun's murderer into Narnia? I paused anxiously with the rest of my companions at the archway. The second Chay left these walls... Narnia's curse would begin. I tried not to think of last time. Of how I had been led into this courtyard with Ginabrik's knife pressed into my back. How _she_ had been waiting there, at her sleigh, waiting for me to take her to my family. To Aslan.

I took a petrified breath. "Come, on," I muttered to the lot of them. "Let's get this over with." I took an unsteady step into the daylight... and felt my foot crunch into snow. I yelped in surprise, watching my frosty breath take flight into the wintry air. I looked into the courtyard, which had been completely empty upon our arrival, to see two figures frozen black beneath the weak sun. One was a brilliant stallion, with the eyes of an old soul and his mane tossed across his face. The other was a girl, small and beautiful. Her long hair was braided over her shoulder and the frock of her skirt frozen as it had been blowing in the wind.

It was Phillip and Lucy.

A strangled cry escaped my lips, and I spun around to face Chay. Her face was twisted in a maniacal grin, and the eyes that had once been the deep blue of the Eastern Sea were now a hissing yellow.

"When you're ready," she cooed. "Son of Adam."

*********

_A/N::::::::: I know, I'm sorry! I had to end on another cliffie. I promise to make it up to you by not taking too long to update. Seriously, your guys' reviews have been keeping me busy writing. So thank you! I will lead you out of this darkness soon with chapter ten! Thanks so much for stickin with me guys. 3_

_--Tiki--_

_********_


	10. A Unicorn Dream

_A/N:::::::: Geeze these chapters just keep getting longer and longer. I'm not sure if that makes you all happy or sad.... Anyway, I updated again! I'm on a role, baby! I just kinda had this hit of inspiration, and I'm currently eating, drinking, and sleeping Narnia. I listen to world music that reminds me of it, I'm writing this fic, and I'm painting a gigantic oil painting of Cair Paravel for my art show (which I'll post a link to next update ;) ). I hope you guys all like this chapter. I had some pretty shaken readers after my last cliffy, so hopefully this will clear a few things up._

_I've been listening to a milion amazing songs while writing this story, most of which have become quite the soundtrack to this story. But there is one song that is the ultimate soundtrack to Nightfall. It's one of my all-time favs, and the mood it sets is just perfect for this tale. I STRONGLY suggest you find and listen to it if you haven't heard it already. It's an amazing song by an amazing band, and it will remind you of me and my story... *bats eyelashes*_

_The song is "Cemeteries of London" by Coldplay. PLEASE give it a listen. And also PLEASE visit my author's page and put your 2 cents into my new poll atop the page. It means a lot, as does everything else you guys do for this story. Much love. Enjoy._

:::::NIGHTFALL:::::

.The Story of King Edmund the Just.

:::CHAPTER TEN:::

.A Unicorn Dream.

***

:::::As seen through the eyes of Peter the Magnificent:::::

Once again I had no idea what was happening. I was watching Edmund's face when he cautiously stepped out into the summer morning, and I saw his feet catch strangely on the stone the second his foot hit the top stair that led into the courtyard. He froze on the spot, eyes wild and breath suddenly becoming labored. I followed his frightened gaze ahead, to where Lucy and Phillip were surprisingly standing. I was overjoyed to see them, though I'd probably scold my youngest sister later for following us. Both their faces lit up the moment they saw us step from the castle. But Edmund didn't look overjoyed. He looked scared out of his wits.

"Ed?" I questioned nervously.

He turned to face us, and I fearfully recognized that unseeing look in his eyes. It was the same look he'd had when he'd attacked me in my bedroom at Cair Paravel. The look of enchantment, the look of hallucination. He gazed past me, towards Chay, who was standing right beside me, her hands clutched anxiously to my shoulders.

"What's wrong?" she breathed. I couldn't tell if she was asking me or my brother.

"No more," Edmund growled, the fear in his eyes turning to sheer hatred. "I won't go through this again. I'm _not_ ready!" I watched in horror as he yanked his sword from its sheath and advanced towards us. Faolchú's fur bristled on his back and a terrifying growl rumbled in his throat.

"Don't!" I commanded the wolf, extending my arm.

"I have no loyalties to you," he spat.

"I won't let you hurt him," I insisted, all the while backing further into the castle entrance as Edmund drew nearer.

"What's happening?" Chay demanded, her grip on my tightening.

"Jadis's spell," I explained curtly, my mind reeling as I tried to find the best course of action. I didn't want to cross blades with my brother. Not again. And, to be terribly honest, I was too afraid he'd win.

"Edmund?" I heard Lucy's small voice carrying on the summer wind as she watched us retreat back into the castle.

But Edmund couldn't hear her. He couldn't hear anything. I slowly withdrew Rhindon. I didn't know what else to do. The only other options were to let Faolchú stop him, or to let Edmund lunge.

Suddenly a large white blur sped before our eyes, and collided violently with my brother. Edmund flew back onto the stone floor, sword clattering down the steps. Jasper advanced towards his brazenly, nostrils flaring and tossing his head as he came to stand over my brother.

"That's enough Edmund," he commanded, snorting and staring down with his wild eyes. "Come home."

Edmund was shaking his head dazedly as Jasper lowered his to Ed's eye level. The two stared at each other a moment, before I saw Edmund's eyes becoming clear once more. A pathetic whimper escaped his lips before he desperately threw his arms around Jasper's arched neck. I watched with wonder as the unicorn's eyes shut softly, and he pressed his jaw against Edmund's sweaty temple.

"Edmund?" Lucy's voice rang out again, and all our heads snapped around to face the two figures at the base of the stairs. Lu was just beginning to climb when Edmund hurled himself down the steps to meet her. They almost fell down the flight of stairs when his arms ensnared her tightly. I could see the delighted surprise in Lu's eyes as she returned the embrace. Phillip was pawing impatiently at the ground.

"What just happened?" Faolchú asked, watching the reunion curiously.

"That's what we've been trying to figure out," I sighed. "It has something to do with Jadis. Something to do with the bit of wand left inside him I think. A curse of some sort. It just began to take hold on his eighteenth birthday... and I don't know why."

"What kind of curse?" Chay asked, stepped out from behind me.

"The kind that gives him visions," I explained. "The kind that accidentally turn him against his own family."

"So... what did he just see?" the wolf asked.

I shook my head despondently, watching Phillip poking his nose lovingly into Edmund's palm. "I don't know," I confessed. "And I don't think I want to imagine it."

By the time the rest of us reached the bottom of the stairs, Edmund's doting attitude on Lucy had already shifted into annoyance.

"It's bad enough I have to watch myself around Peter," he was chiding. "I shouldn't have to worry about you and Phillip too!"

Lucy's chin jutted out in her typical defiant fashion. "You can't expect me to always stay in the palace, Edmund. I can take care of myself."

"I'm... I'm not safe right now, Lu."

Her eyes softened a bit. "I'm not scared," she assured him, using her whisper-voice. "I want to be here. I can take care of you." She reached out and took hold of his hand, eyes big and brown. I smiled to myself despite the situation. There was a time not too long ago when Edmund would have shied away from that hand, would never had let anyone take care of him. Instead he only squeezed her fingers, smiling slightly, though the smile never reached his eyes.

It was only then that Lucy paid any mind to our company. She blinked in mild surprise. "Well," she grinned, "It's nice to know you and Peter were not alone."

Jasper took that opportunity to step forward and introduce himself. As Lucy stared at him with utter fascination, and Chay and Faolchú waited to be introduced, I glanced once more at my brother. He was already watching me. His brow was knitted and his eyes burning with a lonely and frightened fire. I hated that look. I hated knowing that despite Lucy's words, Edmund was obviously feeling more alone than ever.

*****

::::As seen through the eyes of Jasper the Unicorn::::

It was a strange feeling once we left the confines of the witch's courtyard. Just as we had descended the hill to the castle in silence, so were we leaving it. Despite the fact that there was so much to be said, so much to discuss, question, and explain, the seven of us remained silent as we climbed the steep path from what once had been the Ice Castle. Once we'd reached the top almost an hour later, we turned and looked down at the rocky, gnarled structure. It looked less sinister than it had when we had first gazed down at it the night before (Aslan's mane, had it really only been last night?). Now it was just a dark, sad structure. It looked like a dead weed growing at the shore of the sparkling lake. I could hear Edmund's breath beside my ear as he stood next to me, looking down. I watched him carefully, far more interested in him than the castle. I know it sounds silly, but I wanted him to hug me again, the way he had when I'd awoken him from his trance. I was shamefully becoming addicted to the feel of affection after all these years.

Chay was standing on Edmund's other side, her wild, strawberry hair whipping past her face and her dress being tossed against her delicate frame. "I can't believe I'm standing here," she breathed. "Your country is so beautiful. I never really saw it before." She turned to watch Edmund's face curiously. "It's all right," she whispered. "It's over. We're out. It's just another nightmare now."

She reached out to take his hand, but Edmund quickly yanked it away as if she burned, and stalked away from the mountain's edge. "It'll never be over for me," he mumbled.

But the voice of his little sister caused him to halt. "Where do we go now?" she asked his retreating back. We all watched uncertainly as he took a heavy breath and scratched the back of his neck.

"I don't know," he confessed, turning to face us. "I don't feel some powerful _tug_ telling me where to go. It's not that simple. It's never been that simple. All I feel is the same coolness right here," he placed his hand over his heart, where the key was now resting beneath his clothing.

"I suggest we all rest," Peter sighed. "Most of us haven't slept in ages. This journey will be pointless if we can't function properly."

"Do we have time for that?" Edmund asked nervously, eyes darting to the sun, as if after only one hour outside Chay would have sucked it dry by now.

Peter grinned at his brother knowingly. "We need to rest sometime, Ed. Now's as good a time as any."

He looked between the lot of us briefly, before releasing a surrendering sigh. "Fine. But not here," he insisted. "Just a bit further, on the other side of this mountain."

There was no argument there, and within minutes our group was marching wearily away from the dark skeleton of Jadis's home. It was a beautiful summer day in Narnia. The trees were laughing in the breeze, their cool canopy of leaves swaying above us as we walked through the forest. Birds were alighting on nearby branches, curiously watching this unlikely band as we passed by. As always, I was bringing up the rear. I preferred to walk in the back, to observe everyone carefully. And it came with a strange comfort... seeing myself as a part of a group.

Peter and Edmund were walking in the front, hands resting on their hilts as they talked quietly. Occasionally the horse called Phillip would trot forward and insist Edmund hop on his back. But Edmund would always politely wave the horse away, and Phil would continue to walk just behind him. I could see his ears pricking forward as he listened to their conversation, and I chuckled to myself. What an eavesdropper.

Behind the horse slunk the wolf. Faolchú looked on edge in the forest. His snout pointed in every direction at every sound, as if expecting an ambush at any second. I doubted that he had traveled _these_ woods in some time. I would imagine he stuck close to the castle when hunting. When he wasn't searching the skies, he was watching the backs of the Kings, particularly Peter's. He didn't trust the High King. He was fascinated by Edmund. I wasn't entirely sure why. Whenever I stretched out my mind I would only see a rush of water, a flash of light, a butterfly turned to stone, and a small boy crying beside a waterfall. Just pieces. Nothing made sense.

Walking behind them all, and just a meter before me, were the two girls. Queen Lucy and Chay were chattering like gossipy nymphs. The young Narnian Queen was quite fascinated with the mysterious stranger from Charn. The two of them looked the same age. It was strange to know that Chay had been alive for thousands of years... in one form or another. I didn't catch much of their conversation, mostly because I was constantly trying to reach into Chay's mind. But, disturbingly, I found little there that I could understand. Either she was skilled at blocking my intrusion, or she was completely unfettered to my destiny. I could hardly believe the latter to be true.

We stumbled upon a quiet spot nestled between a stand of maples, the forest floor littered with moss. It reminded me of traveling with Edmund, when it was just the two of us, and I would tease him for his need to sleep. Unicorns need very little time to slumber. Nonetheless, I settled down on the mossy bed with the rest of them. Phillip insisted on standing while he slept, and for some reason felt it necessary to shot me a disapproving glare before he shut his eyes. Faolchú spun in a couple tight circles, sniffing the earth, before plopping onto the ground with a heavy sigh and resting his snout between his paws. Chay lay beside him, resting her face on his black, shaggy side. The three Pevensies settled in beside me, on the outskirts of the maple hollow.

"I'm glad I'm here," Lucy yawned, pulling her hair from her braid and letting it fall past her shoulders.

"You should have brought Sue," Edmund rolled his eyes. "And Tumnus and Oreius. Heck, why not the entire royal court? This gang is still a little small if you ask me."

Lucy caught the good-natured sarcasm in her brothers voice and smiled dryly before playfully punching Edmund in the arm as he lay down, resting his head on Peter's jerkin. "I tell you who I should have brought... Lady Rosalie. She was quite torn up over your sudden departure."

Edmund and Peter both chuckled on their mossy blankets. "What did you tell her?" Edmund asked.

Lucy shrugged. "I may have said something about a waiting boat, a journey North, and a forbidden romance with a Giantess princess."

I listened carefully as their laughter took flight into the air. The others stirred slightly in their light slumber, and the three siblings lowered their voices.

"Susan would have come," Lucy explained. "But she had to keep an appointment."

"What appointment?" Peter asked.

"She promised to visit Tashban this month? Remember?"

Both brothers groaned into their makeshift pillows. "She's going to see Rabadoodle?" Edmund exclaimed softly, drawing muffled laughter from his brother and sister.

"She promised," Lucy repeated. "One of us has to keep their diplomatic heads about them."

Edmund turned over onto his stomach. "Yeah well," he mumbled, "I'm just glad it's her."

Peter shook his head with a smile. "It really should be me," he sighed.

"No argument here," Edmund replied sleepily.

"But I wanted to come with you."

"No complaints here either."

"Tumnus sends his best," Lucy recalled, playing with a tiny flower that had grown through the thick moss. "He says he'd take good care of Paravel while we're gone."

"Did he say that with a sense of maniacal sarcasm?" Edmund asked. "Because sometimes I seriously wonder what that faun does when we're gone."

Peter chuckled, his eyes shut as he fought sleep. "I know what you mean. I had a dream last time that he was sprawled across one of our thrones, and my dryad-in-waiting was feeding him grapes."

"Which one?" Edmund asked.

"Sarajoy."

"That's the prettier one, right?"

"Edmund!" Lucy exclaimed, though her voice rose with laughter.

"Do you make her feed _you_ grapes?" Edmund continued.

"Not in a long time," Peter joked.

"I seriously need to consider firing my staff...."

Their talk and laughter slowly fizzled out, each sentence becoming softer and each voice more exhausted. I curled my neck and rested my head upon my folded knees. After a long stretch of silence I was surprised to hear Lucy's small voice, half immersed in sleep whisper, "Goodnight, Edmund."

I smiled to myself, drifting to sleep just seconds after I heard him mumble goodnight in return.

*****

Unicorns don't dream. They only remember. Muted nightmares of past battles, colorful images of countries we've walked, swirling sunset hues of the skies we've grazed beneath, echoing whinnies of the others we've known and loved.... Or, if you're me, silent and twisted mazes of woods and beaches, swamps and mountains, meadows and rivers... all the places I have traveled alone in my long years. It made sleep boring for me. I didn't need a reminder of all the places I had been, all the paths I had walked in my never-ending journey for my ultimate purpose. The memories I yearned for never came: the ones I'd lost long ago, the ones I'd possessed when I was a true unicorn. A whole unicorn.

In this particular sleeping memory, I was strolling along the shore of the Eastern Sea-- a walk I'd made many times. The sun was just rising and I had been walking all night. I ducked into one of the many caverns to find some sleeping shelter. The cavern walls were glittering with precious stones, and icy stalactites hung from the cathedral-like ceiling. The sunlight was leaking into the cave, hitting the gems and crystals and shattering its glow across the rock. Each bit of sunlight looked like a fairy dancing. Moments like this were the ones I wished I could share with someone.

I smiled sadly to myself in this memory, before it all changed. I saw a great mass come to stand at the cavern entrance. Though he was blocking the sunlight, the cavern only seemed to get brighter, and he shook the ocean spray from his shimmering golden mane with a hearty chuckle. I stood perplexed, my heart hammering and my breath gone. I did not recall this memory. This felt so much more like a dream.

In this vision, Aslan walked gracefully towards me, reached up with one mighty paw to knock the most beautiful stalactite from the cavern ceiling. Instead of falling and shattering onto the ground, it merely floated to hover just before me, like an offering. It threw rainbows across my forehead. I had only one second to snort with pleasure before a bony, white hand from nowhere smacked the crystal from the air. I watched in horror as it flew across the cave, hit the stone wall, and smashed into a million precious pieces. My heart stung with the sight, and one of the glittering shards sliced cruelly across my face, leaving a terrible scar....

*****

::::As seen through the eyes of King Edmund the Just::::

I must have been exhausted. It was the first time in a long time that I did not dream. Not the familiar nightmare I'd been plagued with for years, nor one of the haunting visions that seemed peppered with memories of my past. There was only darkness as I slept. But as I slowly felt myself rise into consciousness, I felt my heart sink with a terrifying revelation. Perhaps that was my dream... or my vision. Perhaps the sheer blackness was a ghost of what was to come... what I had unleashed upon Narnia.

My eyes snapped open and I looked up at the late-day sunlight winking through the canopy of maple leaves. The sounds of birds and heavy breathing was all around me. My brother and sister were still asleep beside me, breathing deeply into their mossy pillows. I sat up quietly and looked around. It seemed to be late afternoon; we'd probably been asleep for roughly seven hours. Chay was curled up not far off, hugging her arms to her chest and folding her knees. Faolchú was resting beside her, his snout resting on her sprawled hair and his bright eyes open and wary as he watched me rise. I was careful not to wake Phillip as I tiptoed by. He was snoring softly, swaying on his feet with his head resting against a tree trunk. I smiled at him as I passed.

I found Jasper just a few moments later. He'd stayed near the group, and stood beneath a stand of birches, whose trunks sparkled almost the same shade of opal as he. The unicorn was reaching with his great neck to reach the bright leaves of the overhanging branches. I couldn't help but wonder how many mornings he'd spent like this, surrounded by the beauty of Narnia, but deep down too sad to ever really enjoy it. I couldn't help but wonder how much longer this life of his would last.

_I ask myself that same question every morning_, he said mournfully inside my head. _And every night. _

I paused in mid-step. Stealth had always been one of my talents, but once again Jasper was one step ahead of me. I frowned. "I told you to stop doing that," I pouted.

He tore another mouthful of foliage from the branch and turned to face me while munching. _And I told you to stop thinking about me, then._

"Can't help it," I shrugged, walking forward. "You're just so darn fantastic."

"There's the sarcasm I love," he chuckled, bending his neck down to scratch his ear against his front knee. "I was afraid you lost it. You seem even more out of it now than you did when I found you."

I ground my teeth anxiously. "Don't say that," I mumbled despondently. "I don't think I can take the thought of getting worse."

"Maybe not _worse_," he amended. "Maybe just... different. Distracted. Or maybe you're just more afraid."

I threw my arms into the air. "Why would I be afraid? Aside from leading more and more of my loved ones into danger, coming face to face with something that echoes all too clearly of my darker past, and then putting all of Narnia in the danger of someone coined _The Great Eclipse_?"

Despite my diatribe, Jasper only chuckled. "I know enough about your past, Edmund to tell you that you've been up far worse creeks than this. And you certainly arouse victorious that time. You'll do all right."

"You don't know that," I muttered darkly.

"I know that worrying as you are won't help matters any. Like it or not you took on this challenge, and like it or not your not alone in this. People are tagging along, some of them people you care for very deeply. But they won't leave. So you may as well take their company with some gratitude, instead of viewing it as just another reason to panic. Four thrones at Cair Paravel, Edmund. You're not meant to to any of this alone."

"What about you?" I asked.

"What about me?"

"Do you still think you're meant to be alone?"

Jasper snorted thoughtfully, swishing his tail at a buzzing dragonfly. "As always... I'm not sure what I'm meant to be. What I'm meant to do."

I bowed my head gravely and turned a stone over with my foot. "I don't know," I mumbled. "I think you're doing it."

He eyed me thoughtfully. "What's that?"

I didn't meet his gaze. "Staying with me. I need you here."

I wasn't looking at him, but I could feel his eyes on me as he stood silently. After a long moment of awkward silence, he whinnied softly. "You do, don't you?" he chuckled, pushing me with his nose. He was so strong I actually flew forward a couple meters.

I laughed freely. It's funny how the ones you love can make you do that when laughter seems impossible. "Look at the mighty unicorn!" I chuckled, charging him and throwing all my weight into his massive shoulder. I'm sure my tackle wasn't enough to knock him down, but Jasper fell to the earth anyway, grunting and whinnying in a fit of horse-like laughter. His hooves kicked up moss and leaves and his teeth were showing with a beaming smile. I had only a second to feel some delusional bravado before he rolled over to throw his weight onto me. His full weight would have crushed me, but he was carefully lifting half his body up, pinning me with the other side of his barrel chest.

I laughed through my coughs and sputters as he pressed down on me. "I can't breathe, you _nag_!" I gasped.

"You sure talk like you can," he chuckled. It was strange... I may have been unable to breathe, but having Jasper this close was a lot like wearing that crystal key-- it eased the burning inside me. Until all the air ran from my lungs. "Get _off_!" I grinned, shoving his body away from me. He rolled away, still laughing quietly, and as I lifted myself up to sit beside him, he was flinging the twigs from his mane with a shake of his head.

"Edmund?" he asked, his tone changed.

I was still trying to catch my breath, a stupid grin on my face. "Yeah?"

_What do dreams feel like_?

I frowned thoughtfully, but before I could answer another voice shattered the quiet.

"Your Highness?"

I turned with a start to see Phillip standing a few yards away, watching us curiously.

"The others are stirring," he reported. His voice had a strange edge to it. "We are waiting to hear your plan."

I rolled my eyes and blew out a heavy sigh. "Great," I muttered, standing and brushing the dirt from my clothes. "As if I had one."

Jasper followed right behind me, and I heard Phillip say to him as he passed, "You should be more careful. It's a common mistake to forget the severity of your weight compared to his."

I turned to watch a frown flit across Jasper's face. "I think I am well aware of my own body mass, thank you."

"You may think so, but your lack of experience with humans could be a problem."

Both horse and unicorn were inches apart, nostrils wide and ears pinned back just the slightest. "Enough," I commanded. "Everything's fine. Phil, Jasper was being very careful. And Jasper, he's just looking out for me. Now quit pawing and snorting and let's go get the others." I rolled my eyes and blew a strand of hair from my eyes with a sigh as I turned back towards our sleeping spot. I'd watched Peter having conversations like this many times before... with _women_. Me? I was fighting off _horses_.

_I am __**not**__ a horse._

I cringed inwardly at the bitterness in Jasper's mental voice.

When I reached the cavern of maples and moss I found everyone awake. My brother and sister were shaking the debris of the forest floor from their clothes while Faolchú watched Chay a few yards off, examining a collection of bright pink blossoms. They all turned to face me as I approached.

I shuffled my feet as they drew close to me. "I'm not sure what you're all expecting," I confessed. I kept the edge off my voice; it just sounded a bit defeated. "There's no great compass inside me, pointing me in the right direction. I don't know where we should go. I'm sorry."

"Perhaps you're thinking too hard about it," Lucy shrugged, as usual attempting to be helpful.

"What did you do last time?" Peter asked. "How did you find yourself on a journey to the castle?"

I twisted my mouth in a dry smile and jerked my thumb beside me to where Jasper stood. "I followed him."

"Not true," Jasper interjected. "I knew only the rough direction of our destination. It was your dream that provided the answer."

"What dream?" Lucy asked.

"Long story," I mumbled. "But it had the castle in it, and Jasper saw my dream with his gift and decided that it was our destination."

"Have you had any dreams since then?" Peter asked.

"Several," I shrugged. "But I don't think any of them will help us. They've been so muddled, and thinking back I'm not sure any of them are relevant to our journey."

This whole time Chay and Faolchú just watching us silently. Faolchú's head was cocked curiously to the side while Chay calmly held a plucked blossom to her nose and twirled it thoughtfully between her fingertips. I found myself watching too intently, and angrily tore my eyes away.

"I thought your dream was always the same," Peter frowned thoughtfully, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.

"It was. Until I met Jasper." I looked over at him, noticed a twig still stuck in his mane from our tussle, and picked it out. He nodded his head in a brief thank you.

"Is that another gift of yours?" Lucy asked. "To give others visions?"

"Not to my knowledge, littlest Queen," Jasper said. "Until I began traveling with your brother, the strange visions were always my own."

"And these aren't really visions," I said. "They're more like...."

_Memories?_ Jasper finished.

I nodded.

"A unicorn's dream."

"Memories of what?" Peter asked.

I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know." I was too exhausted to even get into this strange past I was just beginning to uncover.

"I agree with your sister," Chay finally spoke. She had placed the blossom behind her ear. "I believe you are thinking too intently about the situation. It seems to me that all that led you to me was intuition, dreams, and some help from Jasper."

"What luck that was," I muttered, but the soft look of hurt in Chay's eyes meant that she heard.

"Edmund," Lucy chided quietly.

But Chay continued. "I'm simply suggesting that we wait just a bit longer. See if any more dreams can help decode this mystery."

"Each moment we waste, Narnia's fate grows darker," I objected.

"We could always eat?" Peter suggested, bringing a reluctant smile to my face. It was a running gag in our family that we always sought food at times of great duress. But now that he mentioned it, my stomach was aching with emptiness.

I glanced at my sister hopefully. "Did you bring anything from Cair?"

She twisted her mouth in a regretful frown that killed my hopes. "Just enough for one night. I ate pretty much all of it yesterday. But I still have half a bag of grapes," she added with gusto.

I couldn't hide my disappointment. "Great," I muttered.

"I could hunt as I have done for Chay," Faolchú volunteered. "But I would need to bring down a stag to feed a Chay, a wolf, and three humans. I'd probably do no better than a rabbit at this time of day."

"Even better," I grunted. "A feast of four grapes and one fifth of a rabbit."

Chay's giggle started me as I looked up to see her covering her mouth with her delicate hand.

Peter smiled at her. "You'll have to excuse my brother," he sighed. "He tends to get cranky when he's hungry."

I scowled at him. "Do you think you're some picnic when--"

"_Shh_!" he held up a hand to silence me, and I put my hand on my sword, scanning the trees for some sign of danger.

My eyes darted about nervously. "What is it?"

Peter lowered his hand thoughtfully, chewing on his lower lip as he turned to me. "I actually think I know where we are."

"We all know where we are," I rolled my eyes.

"No, but exactly where we are. I have an idea."

"Wait!" Lucy exclaimed, her face now light with a smile of revelation. "I know!"

She took off before I could grumpily ask what they were talking about. Peter eagerly followed, along with Faolchú bounding along curiously. I noticed how Jasper lingered behind a moment, giving me time to catch up to Phillip.

"Do you know where they're going?" Phil asked.

I shook my head. "A cafe perhaps?" I replied dryly.

"What is a cafe?"

I slowed my step and frowned. "I... I'm not sure. I'm sorry. I have no idea where that came from." I rubbed my temple thoughtfully, trying to pry that particular word from my mind. What was I talking about? I kept picturing iron chairs, round glass tables, and the strong smell of something hot.

"I love watching you and your siblings." Chay's voice suddenly popped up beside me, snapping me from my reverie. "I would have given anything for that," she sighed. "That kind of love could have changed so much."

"Maybe," I grunted quietly. I didn't really want to think any further on Chay and Jadis's past... on what could have been... on what needn't have happened if destiny's path had been different.

"I know you're worried about your decision to release me, King Edmund," she continued. "And I'm so sorry to unleash this burden upon you. But I truly hope that you'll come to not only trust me, but to like me. And to be more at peace with your course of action. But until then, all I can do is thank you yet again King Edmund."

I blew a sigh from my nose and pushed aside a stray branch. "Can you just not call me King Edmund every time?" I asked. "It takes too much time. Just call me--"

"Ed," Jasper called from behind, a snicker in his voice.

I threw a half-frown half-smirk over my shoulder. "Edmund," I corrected. "Or even King if you like. Just not both at the same time."

She nodded meekly, visibly disappointed by my response. "Of course, Edmund."

To put it frankly-- I was being a jerk. I knew it. But I didn't care. Just a few days ago, as I lay with my eyes shut tight on Peter's bed, I heard General Oreius discussing my past with Jadis. He had mentioned that there was no way of telling what scars she could have left aside from the shimmering line across my chest. And as I watched Chay sadly fold her arms and slow her pace just enough to fall behind me, I was pretty sure this was one of those scars. I could never see her as anything other than a reminder... a shadow of what I already knew, and feared. I was sorry, but after almost hurting my brother twice and after seeing terrible things that weren't there-- my feelings towards Chay was hardly the scar I was worried about most.

"Don't let him get to you," Jasper was speaking to her behind me. He didn't even bother to lower his voice, but Chay replied in hushed tones I couldn't hear over our crunching footsteps and the songs of the birds and rustling leaves. "You have seen many horrible things in your past," Jasper continued to her. "And so has Edmund.... Just give him time. He thinks it won't heal... but it will."

I pushed my feet to walk further to the front of the line. I still had no idea where we were going; Peter and Lucy were almost skipping through the woods ahead of me. I once again had to politely decline Phillip's offer to carry me, and nearly started jogging to catch up to my siblings. I finally drew near enough to hear Faolchú's voice as he gracefully bounded beside them.

"Inform me of something," he said to Peter. "Why are we following your lead and not that of the one who actually could possess the answers we need?"

My brother no doubt picked up on the sharp edge to the wolf's voice, and I could see his shoulder's become rigid. "I don't need to inform you of anything. Nor explain myself. You're only a tag-along in this journey."

I was now so close to the three of them that I could hear the growl in Faolchú's throat. "No more so than yourself, _Highness_," he snarled.

Peter turned to him with flashing eyes. "I think you need to be reminded of--"

"Stop it both of you," Lucy reprimanded in her gentle yet firm manner. Both the King and the wolf silenced instantly. I chuckled to myself. Peter and Faolchú, Jasper and Phillip, Chay and me... Lu was the only one who liked everyone here. I wasn't surprised, just as I wasn't surprised at her ability to command respect from a High King and a rebellious wolf. There was just something about her.

We were now walking along the edge of a steep hillside. Below wound the bubbling river, and beyond that lay the very outskirts of the Western Woods. I hadn't been in this part of my woods in many years, but I was certain I'd been here long ago. The forest stretched out to the horizon, where the sunlight was slowly growing softer and the clouds a gentle lavender and rose. It was then, as I gazed towards the horizon, that I realized just how far we'd come since this very morning.

I slowed to a stop and stared dumbstruck at the pair of purple-ridged mountains that towered over the trees. They were as beautiful as any mountains in Narnia, but I knew the icy heart that lay between them. For a fleeting moment it was no longer day, and it was no longer summer. It was a blue-mooned winter, and those mountains were calling to me in some terrible song.

_Enjoying the view, are we?_

It was Jasper; he was standing beside me, following my gaze to those mountains. I snapped from my trance to look into his golden eyes.

"I can see that memory," he explained somberly. "I'm sorry you have to relive it again."

I nodded dully. "Me too."

"But now you know where we are," he smiled softly. It was not a question. And somehow that crazy unicorn knew where we were as well.

A smile broke through my melancholy, and I nodded. "I do."

I turned with him and walked a few meters more along the ridge, to where the others were chattering excitedly. Lucy was clasping her hands beneath her chin in eager happiness, while Faolchú watched her curiously. Peter was standing close to Chay, his hand lightly touching her back as he pointed below. Phillip nudged me with a smile as I approached, and Jasper and I leaned over to look with grins of relief.

For the moment, all awful memories were washed away. The light of the day was just soft enough to make the lanterns inside glow like embers. The setting sunlight bounced off the timber, making the wood glisten like copper. Smoke was rising from the modest chimney, filling the summer wind with the scent of dinner.

We had reached Beaversdam.

*****

_A/N::::: See? Now stop being mad at me for making Chay evil. Haha. This story has many more twists and turns to come. Hope you're enjoying it. Now go vote on my poll and leave a review! Look out your window! You can see me standing creepily outside with a cardboard sign reading "Will write for reviews". Lol_

_--Tiki--_

_*****_


	11. The Line of Light

**_A/N::::: Edmund's back baby!!!! I finally got my computer fixed (who knows how long that'll last) and I got to finish chapter 11 at long last!!! Thank you all SO much for your patience, and I really hope this was worth the wait. _**

**_So I finished my Cair Paravel/Edmund painting and posted it on youtube! Visit my profile page to get the link to the video of my massively -detailed painting in all it's Narnia goodness :)_**

**_And as for Chay... I've had people begging me for a romance b/w her and a Pevie boy and others threatening me on pain of death. Truth is, I've already made pu my mind which way I'm gonna go, and you need to TRUST ME. I hope you guys enjoy the story no matter what :) Without further ado, Chapter 11._**

_::::: NIGHTFALL:::::_

_.The Story of King Edmund the Just._

_::::: CHAPTER ELEVEN :::::_

_.The Line of Light._

_***_

As seen through the eyes of Peter the Magnificent::::

This place still smelled the same. Like burning wood, cooking fish, wet fur, and fresh linens. It had been difficult for me to squeeze into the dam six years ago... but now, at 21, it was nearly impossible. My neck was rapidly developing a crick as I angled my head so as not to bump it on the ceiling and my legs were tightly folded as I sat at the table. But I didn't care. It felt like home.

I hadn't been here in so many years. Mr. And Mrs. Beaver often came to stay at Cair Paravel, so there was little need to make the journey to see them. And Edmund had always managed to avoid this part of Narnia, just on the outskirts of his beloved Western Wood. The Beavers didn't take it personally.

"It's still difficult for _us_ to see those two mountains in the distance," Mrs. Beaver had said to me once.

"It's true," Mr. Beaver nodded. "She put these 'ideous curtains over the north-facing window to block out the view. Took me years to convince her to take them down."

I laughed quietly at the memory as I took a long sip of steaming tea, letting the soothing smell clear my head. The light outside was becoming soft and purple, and through the tiny window above the wash basin I could see Phillip grazing peacefully beside the shore of the pond. I didn't see Jasper until I turned my head and looked out the opposing window. The north-facing one. He was looking away from the dam-- his tail and mane blowing in the evening breeze as he stared through a break in the trees... towards the two mountains that were catching the last of the daylight.

Lucy was sitting beside me at the table, finding it much easier to fit into the Beavers' home and nibbling contently on some toast and jam. Faolchú was curled up contently beside the stove, looking much less like the wolf he was and much more like a happy dog as Chay sat beside him and stroked his arched back. She met my eyes and smiled. I had already been smiling, so I just let it stretch further across my face. Edmund was sitting in the same corner he'd sat in so long ago. But it wasn't the same this time. He was laughing with Mr. Beaver and popping berries into his mouth. Like me, he barely cleared the ceiling. Every now and then I would catch a flicker of worry flash across his face, and he'd turn to watch Jasper out the window.

"Stop worrying about 'im," Mr. Beaver chuckled, also noticing Edmund's concerned distraction. "Looks like he can take care of 'imself if need be. 'E's old enough an' I've seen enough unicorns in battle to know they 'av little to fear."

Ed nodded distantly, slowly pulling his gaze from the window.

"So where did you say you were from, Chay?" Mrs. Beaver smiled, pouring her another cup of tea.

"South Archenland," I interjected quickly; all eyes snapped to me. "In the countryside."

"Don't look like much of the Archlander's I've seen," Mr. Beaver snorted, puffing on his pipe. It smelled like roasted chestnuts and raspberries.

"Don't you get much sun out there in the countryside?" Mrs. Beaver asked amiably.

"My mother liked to keep me inside knitting," Chay replied pleasantly.

"Nothing wrong with that. I like to knit a bit myself. Made these three their fair share of sweaters," Mrs. Beaver giggled. My siblings and I returned the happy gesture. "Then what brings you out this way?"

"My father is less pragmatic," she answered without skipping a beat. "He wanted me to get my fill of the country. Narnia had always been my dream to visit. The Pevensies have been more than gracious by offering me a guide."

I caught Edmund's eye, and he gave me a dark glare from his corner. The corner of my mouth twitched uncertainly. I could tell he didn't like how easy it seemed for her to lie. It didn't seem fair of him to judge... he wasn't half bad at it either. I recalled a certain time when he'd managed to thoroughly convince a flock of Tarkeenas that he could speak mermish-- the language of the sea people. He was actually just gargling a popular Narnian drinking song. Then there was the time he swayed Sue into believing she'd left her diary in Edmund's room after coming in to return his favorite bridle for Phillip. Never happened. He'd taken it from her corner in the gardens and stupidly left it in plain sight on his bureau. And what about the time he'd convinced our mother that he had the flu the day before a trip to visit the Scrubbs?

I blinked. What about that time? Where had _that_ memory come from? I tried to picture it more clearly, but it was like trying to start juggling again after the balls had already begun to drop. The memory scattered to nothing, and eventually dissolved into utter confusion. I blinked again, lost in thought.

"Where are you off to next then?" Mrs. Beaver was asking. "Surely there must be more interesting places then our humble dam?"

Chay's eyes darted about anxiously, loosing her composure for the first time.

The other liar picked up. "We were thinking perhaps the Great Fall," Edmund told them. "It always looks so crystalline this time of the year."

Mrs. Beaver clapped her tiny paws in approval. "Oh yes! You'll love it dear. It's like a curtain of tumbling teal satin."

I smiled wistfully at her description, then felt my chest constrict a bit with the guilt of our fibs. I didn't like hiding things from the Beavers, and by the heavy looks behind the eyes of both Lucy and my brother, neither did they. But we knew it was for the best. As monarchs, we had a responsibility to our country. We needed to save it. That plan was shakily underway. And we needed to protect it from a panic that could destroy all the peace we had worked for. If word got out that we were carting around a living world-destroyer, I imagine our people wouldn't wait quietly for our unresolved plans to unfold. I wouldn't blame them.

"You all look exhausted," Mrs. Beaver said softly.

"At least now you all look a little less famished," Mr. Beaver scoffed, and looked at Chay. "These three must have been running you ragged! Didn't you all pack any food before going on your hike?"

Chay only laughed softly.

"Please get some rest before you go back out there," the woman of the house pleaded. "You'll need your strength to get to the falls in the morning."

None of us put up a fight. Edmund excused himself first to speak to his horse duo; I watched through the windows as he lovingly brushed out Phillip's mane and then laughingly yanked on Jasper's ear before patting his glowing white shoulder. He nodded lightly at something the unicorn said, and then turned to walk back towards the dam. After only a few steps however, he paused suddenly and turned to look back at Jasper. The unicorn's mouth had never moved, but he was looking solemnly at Edmund with a funny glint in his wild eyes. He must have reached Edmund's mind. My brother nodded once more, not so lightly this time, and turned again towards the dam. His expression was different as he grew closer... it looked anxious.

I was sure to not reveal that I'd been watching him. I turned from the window towards the steps that led to the upper level of the dam.

"Can you all fit up there?" a gentle voice asked. "Without it collapsing?"

I smiled at Chay, who was already curled up by the stove. Faolchú was breathing heavily at her side. "It may look rickety," I confessed. "But trust me, I wouldn't be sleeping up there if I didn't have the utmost faith in the Beavers' construction."

"They're very sweet."

"Yes they are."

"Tell your brother I said goodnight, when he comes in."

"He's on his way in right now," I replied, glancing briefly to the door. "You can tell him yourself if you like."

Her mouth turned down just the slightest. "Can you just do it? Please Peter?"

I paused, and then nodded in understanding. "Just give him time, Chay," I reassured her. "He'll lighten up."

"Thank you, Peter." She then glanced down at her wolf companion, who was kicking slightly in his sleep. "The same goes for him," she smiled down at him through her long, pale lashes. "Just give him time."

I blew out a short, disbelieving breath. "Goodnight Chay," I smiled once more before scaling the very short flight of steps. I basically had to go up on my hands and knees so as not to collide with the ceiling. It probably would have been more comfortable for us all to sleep under the stars, but I would never dream of insulting the Beavers' hospitality. They were currently out for an evening swim, but had mentioned that they'd be back and curl up with Mrs. Beaver's favorite afghan in the small space under the steps.

I thought Lu was already asleep when I crawled into the loft. She was tucked into a little ball against the far wall, resting her head on a pillow of goose down. But as I slid out of my jerkin and laid it beneath my head I heard her mumble, "Where's Edmund?"

"On his way up," I replied in hushed tones. "Get some rest, Lu."

But I think she was already sleeping.

I lay awake for only a few moments after that, listening when the door opened below with Edmund's entry. I didn't hear him and Chay exchange any words, so either she had fallen asleep or truly was too nervous to say goodnight to him. The wooden steps creaked as Edmund crawled up the narrow passage. My back was turned to him, so I only listened as he settled in just a few inches away from me before growing still.

It seemed like he wasn't going to speak at all, until he finally uttered darkly, "It felt colder tonight than it did last night."

I released a shaky sigh. "Get some rest, Ed," I said to my other sibling. But unlike Lucy, he didn't seem to fall right asleep. His breathing remained shallow and nervous. I had a feeling he'd be up for a while.

I finally shut my eyes and drifted to sleep. The last thing I was conscious of was the distant crackling of the fire below, but it slowly faded into the bratty cackles of a freckled boy named Eustace as my dreams took over.

************

As seen through the eyes of King Edmund the Just:::::

I'm not sure when I fell asleep-- how long I'd been lying scrunched with Peter and Lu in the top level of the Beaver's modest dam. All I know is that suddenly it was snowing.

I tried to blink the flakes from my eyelashes as I smiled into the dull sunlight. This was the happiest I'd felt since he left us, left me. I was standing just a small ways off from the laughing horde of students in the schoolyard. The fresh powder crunched beneath our feet as we fled from our classes a whole hour earlier than usual. Excitement was like static in the air.

I turned my gaze from the hazy slate sky and looked at my sisters and brother. They were throwing snowballs, and I watched quietly as the compacted powder would explode upon impact with their coats. Their faces were flushed and pink with cold and their laughter somehow carried further than anyone else's. I felt my smile widen just a bit. For the first time in a long time, I felt less angry. I wanted to be with them.

I took a few cautious steps forward before I felt a rough force tug me backwards. I spun on my heels, my demeanor already guarded, my eyes already sharp, my smile already gone. Julian Mathews was standing in the snow before me, a sick smile plastered on his round face. He'd pulled me backwards by the strap of my pack.

"By yourself again, are we Eddy?" he crowed.

I glared up at him. He stood about half a foot taller than me, but my father had taught me how to stand tall without _being_ tall. But I couldn't think of anything to say, so I simply stared darkly.

"Think if you wait out here every day, your old man is just going to come pick you up? Think you can bring him back, do you?"

"Ed?" I heard Peter's concerned voice call my name from across the schoolyard, but I didn't turn to face him. I didn't break my gaze.

"Your brother coming to the rescue, Pevensie?" he chuckled. "Daddy Jr. is it?"

I felt the tears stinging like sparks of fire in my eyes. "I don't need to be rescued," I growled, fighting the tears as hard as I could. But the cold wind only brought them on faster.

Julian's face started glowing with enjoyment. "You gonna cry, Eddie?" he chuckled.

And I threw myself at him. He fell over backwards, easily slipping on the icy pavement. I could hear Peter shouting urgently, and a teacher somewhere was also calling. But I didn't care. Julian was still struggling to get up, and I noticed a heavy iron rod at my feet.

Without thinking, I picked up the rod and tossed it at Julian's stupid face. But at the last possible moment Peter knocked it from its course, a disapproving look in his eyes, and it landed with a clatter on the concrete. I watched in awe as it shuddered on the ground, and then vanished. From out of the snow, where the rod had been moments before... grew a lantern.

My eyes snapped open.

Peter and Lucy were still breathing heavily beside me. I could still hear the fire crackling just below. I carefully and quietly lifted myself from the floor and inched my way to the steps. My brother and sister must have been exhausted-- they didn't even stir. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I saw Mr. And Mrs. Beaver cuddled contently on a collection of quilts and throws in the cozy crawlspace. I smiled, feeling my heart soar at the sight of just how much they catered to us. Suddenly I didn't feel like such an orphan.

I then realized with a bit of shock that Chay and Faolchú were both gone from their spot beside the stove. I frowned curiously, trying not to assume the worse. I carefully slipped out the door, trying not to think about the last time I did that, and sucked in a breath of fresh Narnian moonlight. It smelled fantastic.

I took a brief look around. The only creature I saw was Phillip, swaying on his feet in a light slumber as he leaned against a tree on the bank of the pond. I gazed over the rooftop of the dam, where those two mountain peaks pierced the starry sky. True, I had slipped out the door again, but this time... I was running _from_ those hills. Not to them. That made me feel a little better.

_That's the key, you know_.

I swallowed the scream that threatened to explode from my throat and jumped clear into the air, spinning around as I did so to face a pair of curious golden eyes.

"Don't _do_ that!" I hissed, trying to slow my heart.

Jasper chuckled... or at least that's what his grunting sounded like. "You Sons of Adam have such weak ears." He tilted his head to look at me at a different angle. "And tiny arms."

I frowned. "Shut up. What's the key?"

"Pardon?"

"You said 'that's the key'. What is?"

"The lantern. That's our next stop. Or at least we're meant to look for it."

I blinked in surprise. "You saw that?"

"I told you-- I see what's linked to my destiny."

"I'm not sure if I like you in my dreams, Jazz."

"You seem to think I'm the one providing you with these images of your past. If that is the case, I suggest you not fuss."

I actually had to grant him that. I nodded slightly and looked again to the hills. I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Yes it is," Jasper agreed.

"What is?" I snapped. It wasn't even dawn yet-- way to early for this. "I don't even know what I was thinking!"

"You were thinking it felt colder tonight. You're right. It does. Of course, it could just be a coincidence. But the fact that I could hear that thought makes me fairly certain it is not."

I shook my head. "What are we going to do? I can't believe I unleashed her into my Narnia."

"You'll eventually come to realize you did the right thing."

I blew out a disbelieving snort.

"Couldn't you sleep?" I asked him.

_Not with all your dreams keeping me awake,_ he remarked lightly. I only nodded.

"Was it like that for you a lot back then?" Jasper asked me; I thought I heard sadness in his voice. "The way those other humans treated you?"

I crossed my arms and turned away, feeling a frown pulling at my forehead. "I don't remember," I mumbled, though something deep down told me it was.

"You're different now," he told me. "You're much stronger."

"I hope so," I said. I was eager to change to subject. "Hey have you seen Chay and Faolchú? They weren't in the dam."

"They left not long ago. The wolf told me she couldn't sleep."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep if I was killing a world either," I muttered.

Jasper smiled with his eyes. "Be nice."

I scratched the back of my neck anxiously, trying not to think of so many things. "Want to take a walk?" I asked.

Jasper thought about this a moment. _Your pony won't try to bite me_?

I smiled wryly. "Be nice."

We hadn't walked far when we spotted them. The girl and the wolf were sitting beside a creek that split from the river, half-shadowed from the moonlight beneath the shelter of a willow tree. Faolchú must have smelled us, because he stuck his snout into the air and then aimed his glowing sapphire eyes right at us. Chay followed his gaze and waved enthusiastically when she saw us. I wiggled my fingers half-heartedly and sighed. Jasper nodded his large silver head in return, then began to cross the brook to where they sat.

"Where are you going?" I hissed.

He paused in the middle of the bubbling water and looked at me. "Taking a walk."

"_That_ way?" I sighed.

"This way."  
My shoulders drooped as he continued to cross, and after a brief moment of pouting, I too crossed the creak. The cool water splashed against my boots as I searched in the darkness for the shallow spots and held out my arms for balance. By the time I reached the opposite bank, Jasper was already munching contently on the dangling leaves of the willow.

"You couldn't sleep either, Edmund?" Chay asked me casually once I stood beside them on the bank.

I shook my head. "A lot on my mind."

"I imagine so," she replied sympathetically. "Well at least it's a gorgeous night for a walk."

I glared at Jasper. "I thought so." He ignored me, munching his leaves.

"Would you like to take a seat?" she asked me, twirling a leaf between her fingertips.

"To be honest, Chay, I'm not really in the mood to sit still."

She just looked up at me with those dark eyes, as if staring would change my mind. Jasper caught my eye, and he pawed gently at the grass.

_Be nice, _he repeated, a bit harsher this time.

I sighed.

"Maybe for a few minutes," I corrected, taking a seat on a rock beside her. For a while we said nothing. Chay continued to play with the single leaf, holding it up to watch the moonlight burn through, revealing its tiny, dark veins. Faolchú was rolling around in the clovers, his tongue dangling from his mouth in a canine smile. I grinned to myself; it was nice seeing him so relaxed. This was the type of wolf he seemed meant to be, not the guardian of a castle. It probably helped that Peter wasn't here to keep him on edge, though I wished my brother could see him like this.

Chay must have seen me watching him. "I've never seen him this happy," she said softly. "He looks like a puppy again. He was so young when I first met him. And so sad. Scared."

"Wolves have many layers," I noticed. "That's probably their most defining attribute. I remember hating them so long ago. But after... everything... it didn't take me long to see something much deeper. Wolves are constantly battling their own emotions. Their own instincts. They're natural survivors, excellent at looking out for themselves. But they're also so... social. So dependent on their pack, their community, their family. It's like being selfish and selfless at the same time."

Chay just smiled at me, watching me speak. So much of me wanted to stop talking, to not open up. But somehow I couldn't. "I have this theory," I continued. "On why the wolves stayed true to the Witch."

"What's that?" she asked.

"I think it all started with one. One wolf that turned bad. But that wolf was so well-loved by its pack, that they stuck by him. To watch out for him, no matter what. And after that, it was just an unbreakable chain. They were now integrated into Jadis's web, caught up. I think their loyalty was their downfall. Peter has trouble accepting their mistakes. It's funny how he does that, considering how quickly he forgave me of mine...."

I trailed off, having finally gone too far. I bit my lip and kicked at the mud of the bank. Chay seemed to sense my change, and returned to looking at her leaf.

"So, what," I spoke again, "You couldn't sleep?"

"No."

"Nightmares?"

She smiled wistfully, staring out at the glittering moonlit water. "The truth? I just couldn't bring myself to do it. So long locked away... unable to smell the night air. To see the sky. To touch the grass. How could I possibly sleep?"

I only nodded.

"Your home is so beautiful," she noted, looking around. She reached out to touch a small cluster of blue flowers, their petals glowing like fireflies in the dark. "These are extraordinary. What do you call them?"

"Lunacradonias," I replied, watching her fondle them curiously. "Here," I bent down to pluck one as Faolchú came in close to watch. I carefully folded the petals away from the center, then pressed the small collection of glowing pistons against the rock I was sitting on. A streak of shimmering blue followed my hand as I smudged the flower across it. "It leaves a permanent stain," I told her. "The fauns use these for body-art and to decorate their instruments."

Chay reached out and plucked another one. She studied it carefully a moment before looking up into Faolchú's watching eyes. "Can I?" she smiled.

Somehow the wolf knew what she had in mind, and replied by simply letting his tongue loll over his teeth again.

I watched as Chay leaned close to his face and streaked the flower carefully around his one eye. Faolchú faithfully waited, completely still with eyes gently shut as she delicately touched his face. When she pulled away there was a glowing crescent moon of blue encircling his one eye, which was the same shocking shade of sapphire.

"Now you're more unique than ever," she smiled, scratching behind his ears.

It was a strange moment. Watching Chay smiling tenderly at the wolf, glowing flower in her hand and running her other palm over Faolchú's chest... for the first time she reminded me nothing of her sister.

"Nice to have him trust your artistic skills like that," I noted.

"I like creating things," she mused. "Perhaps it's my way of fighting my destiny of destroying."

I winced at the reminder of her deadly curse. She continued speaking.

"When I was chained to that throne, Faolchú would bring me bits of tree branches and driftwood, and I would create carving after carving."

"What happened to all them?"  
"I used them as firewood," she replied wistfully, but then met my surprised expression with a gentle grin. "It's all right. There's something wonderful about beauty that doesn't last."

I looked up into the night sky, my chest constricting as I pondered whether the moon felt Chay's drain the same way the sun did. "Yeah..." I choked.

"And you seem to inspire quite a bit of trust yourself," she said, looking past me at Jasper as he scratched his head against the bark of the willow. "I think he's not the only one who would follow you anywhere."

"I think _I'm_ more of the one doing the following," I muttered. "And no one should be following me anywhere."

"Don't say that. I know you'll lead us right."

I raised my brow and kicked at the dirt. "That's easy for you to say, Chay."

Her face lost some of its glow. "Not so much. I wish you could understand how much I hate this curse of mine. How I've already fallen in love with Narnia, and would rather die than see it wither."

I wasn't really thinking when I snapped, "What's stopping you then?"

Faolchú stirred anxiously beside me, a distressed noise rumbling in his throat, but it wasn't a growl. Only a desperate whine. Strange. I knew he would have pounced on Peter if my brother had said something like that, but the wolf acted differently around me. I'm not sure what I had done to deserve his respect.

"I suppose my desire to end this properly," she told me quietly, the pain making her voice quiver.

"I won't let you end the best thing I have," I growled.

"I have no desire to."

"It's already colder."

I thought I saw something glistening in her indigo eye. A tear? "Then end it yourself, Edmund," she whispered. "I would understand. A night like this, a place like this, at hands such as yours... it may not be my ideal way to end it, but I could never complain."

I felt my breath catch in my throat, my chest constricting again, and I turned to face Faolchú. His eyes met mine; they weren't angry, weren't guarded, they weren't even protective. They were simply sad. I couldn't take it anymore.

I released a muffled growl as I launched myself off the rock I'd been sitting on and tore into the black forest.

I counted to thirteen until I heard the expected trampling of undergrowth behind me.

"Telling her to die wasn't what I meant by nice," Jasper sighed, glowing like the moon beside me.

"Leave me alone," I muttered.

"Stop acting so tortured. I swear, your mood-swings are starting to give me whiplash."

"Why did you make me do that?" I asked.

"Because I knew she'd show you a side of her you needed to see. And I knew you'd appreciate it... until you lashed out like a foal."

I just mumbled to myself and continued to barrel into the depths of the woods, knowing he'd follow me.

"I feel like it should be getting lighter by now. It must be close to dawn. The sky's still so black."

_It is._

"You're supposed to disagree with me."

"I don't."

I finally pushed my way through a wall of fir branches, stumbling into a grassy clearing that was surrounded by ancient pines, their perfume tickling my nose. Jasper came to an abrupt halt right beside me, both of us frozen on the edge of the clearing in stunned silence. Jasper then turned to look at me.

_That is quite extraordinary, _he laughed in my head, the glow from the lantern light flickering in his golden eyes.

I walked forward carefully, looking up at the warmly lit lantern as it burned against the darkness of the forest and the star-studded sky. It was like being back in the heated comfort of the Beavers' dam. I tentatively reached out my fingers, pausing only inches away from the iron post.

"What does it mean?" Jasper asked.

"It means Lucy was right," I replied breathlessly.

"What does _that_ mean?"

I shook my head dully. "I have no idea. That's just the first thing that comes to mind." I stood there frozen for a second, my fingers still hovering over the post and my mouth still ajar.

"I feel as if I've been here before," Jasper spoke quietly behind me. "But I don't ever recall seeing a lamppost."

"I don't understand," I mumbled thoughtfully. "If this was our next stop, then why is my chest so still? The ice always burned when we were on the right track."

He didn't reply, which didn't fill me with any hope. I finally let my fingertips brush against the iron, and the second they did I felt freezing, like I was shin-deep in snow. When I thought I heard the distant echo of sleigh bells I yanked my hand away as if I'd been burned.

"What's that?" I asked, blinking into the blackness of the forest just beyond the clearing. Jasper came to stand beside me, also gazing into the trees. I took more cautious steps forward, leaving the warmth of the lantern and growing nearer to the shadows of the pines. Reaching out, I pushed aside a tree branch and blinked once more into the dark. There in the blackness, shining dully like a streak from a lunacradonia, was a thin line of light. It wasn't warm and orange like that of the lantern, but a soft gold, like sunlight filtering through dusty windows.

"Feel like going a bit further?" I asked in a whisper.

"Sure," Jasper replied in equally hushed tones. _Hope you're not afraid of the dark._

I frowned thoughtfully. Why did those strangely familiar words make the ice in my heart writhe?

I took one more step forward.

************

**_A/N:::::: Thank you guys so so much! I LOVE reading your reviews, and have really appreciated you all for sticking with this story for me. I hope it continues to please. I'm also writing and posting a new Twilight novel, but promise to continue to update this one. Nightfall is my baby :)_**

**_**********_**


	12. Changing Paths

**_A/N:::::: I'm back with more Narnianess!!! Thank you all SO MUCH for your patience, and I am thrilled that you guys have been enjoying this story. I simply love reading your reviews. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It sets a new plan in motion.... _**

**_And if you like vids, I made a new Narnia vid and posted it on youtube a few weeks ago. Just type in "Started with a Wardrobe", or look up my channel (TikiTyler9) and find it there. You rock people. Thank you._**

:::::NIGHTFALL::::

.The Story of King Edmund the Just.

:::::CHAPTER TWELVE:::::

.Changing Paths.

As I drew closer to the thin line of sunlight in the darkness, with Jasper breathing down my neck, I felt my heart hammering. My memory, the one I couldn't always place, swam with images of stained glass windows, carts pulled by ponies, and the smell of tobacco and tea. I frowned. The draw towards the strange light was a magnetic one... almost nothing could have broken the thread between us.

Except for the horrible scream that tore through the night, like the squeal of a train when it slams on its brakes, though I could scarcely recall what a train was. Jasper and I snapped out heads back around, towards the glowing lamppost, in the direction of the dam. It didn't sound like Lucy's scream... but my chest was constricting nonetheless. We barreled from the trees and tore off in the direction of the voice. I could hear other shouts now-- deep, throaty voices calling from beside the river. Faolchú howled out, his beautiful song eerily out of place in the horror of the moment.

In my frantic sprint, I fell over a rock and tumbled to the forest floor with a painful thud. Jasper stopped on a dime and walked t my side.

_Get on_, he commanded urgently.

I took only half a second to stand there in utter awe, to marvel over the fact that I was about to actually ride him. Peter had ridden a unicorn a few times in battle, but somehow riding an old soul like Jasper-- a unicorn with no horn, strange gifts, and wild eyes-- seemed far more remarkable. I leaped up onto his broad, silver back with practiced skill, grasping his mane and holding on tightly with my thighs as he moved like a phantom through the woods. I hoped Phillip would never see my face as I rode Jasper like this. Even in this frightening moment, my mouth was open and my eyes wide and glittering with euphoria as we glided effortlessly among the trees.

It was after I was able to collect myself that I realized the shouting had faded. My heart froze as I listened to the silence around me. Only the rhythm of Jasper's hooves, softer than any horse's I ever heard, filled my ears as we drew nearer to the stream. I'm certain that the scream would have awakened my siblings, and they were closer to the river than I had been, yet Jasper and I were the first ones there as he leaped from the bank and splashed into the moonlit water.

Nothing. Quiet. Only the mocking laughter of the babbling brook as I threw myself off Jasper's back and waded through the water to the willow where Chay had been only moments before. The streak of the lunacradonia on the rock was the only proof of her presence. Then, over the noise of the water, a soft whimper rose into the air. Lying on the far side of the willow, the falling petals of the tiny blossoms raining gently on his dark fur, lay Faolchú.

I ran to his side and knelt as Jasper followed close behind. A wicked-looking knife was sticking from his side as dark blood poured from his wound onto the cool grass. He heard me sit beside him and opened one bright eye to stare up at me. Immediately his whimpers returned and his feet scrambled frantically.

"Keep still," I commanded softly, laying a hand on his fur. It was softer than you'd think. "You'll be all right. Lucy!" I called into the trees.

Jasper perked his ears. "They are coming," he told us.

"I need to go," the wolf told me, his voice gruff and weak. "I promised."

"You need to hold still," I repeated through gritted teeth.

Only seconds later the others came into the clearing and crossed the river noisily. Peter and Phillip led the way, with Lucy close behind and already clutching her vial, as the Beavers gracefully swam beside her.

Peter's eyes were wild as he clambered onto the shore, his gaze darting about for any danger, Rhindon sparkling in his fist. "Where is Chay?" he asked, breathless.

"They took her," Faolchú moaned. "I promised. I _promised_."

"Who took her?"

"Peter, give him a moment," Lucy chided as she came up from behind him, opening the top of her vial.

"No, he's right Lu," I said softly. "We need to know." My chest was all ice again. But this had nothing to do with the shard near my heart. This ice came from somewhere else... from the terrible fear that was blooming in my lungs.

"Three men," the wolf sputtered, blood trickling from his black lips. I continued to pet him as Lucy dropped a bead of red liquid into his gasping mouth.

He took a moment to let it wash over him. I yanked out the knife.

"What men? Where did they take her?" Peter pressed.

Mrs. Beaver came up to him and put her tiny paws on his side, washing off the sticky blood as we all watched his terrible gash sew itself up by invisible forces. Faolchú's breathing grew deeper, more steady. He shut his eyes tightly.

"He needs just a moment, Peter," Lucy insisted. "For the magic to finish."

"He doesn't need to say anything," I whispered hoarsely, looking down at the knife I'd just pulled from his side. The small, curved hilt was a dully shining gray, speckled with cream and sandy colors. Unmistakably the horn of a satyr. Carved into the handle were three triangles, beneath a single circle. Like three pyramids beneath a hot, desert sun.

I curled my fingers tightly around it, and snarled, "They took her back to Tashbaan."

********

As Seen Through the Eyes of Peter the Magnificent:

Dawn was spreading its thin, rosy line across the horizon. I looked out at the new sunlight, thinking of how the sun would soon be sparkling just above the Eastern Sea, thinking of the view from Cair Paravel. Thinking....

"I can't get a cup of tea down him," Mrs. Beaver said stressfully from behind me, I turned to look down at her as she emerged from the front door of her dam. "He keeps insisting you set off now."

I growled to myself. "Tell the dog that we have every intention of leaving this morning. Ed and I have some talking to do, then we will go. Tell him I _insist_ he drink it, if it makes you happy."

She only nodded solemnly, and went back into the house.

"Nasty situation," Mr. Beaver shook his head as he stood beside me, focused on that same line of rose and gold. "Your po' brother looks mighty torn up about it. Better go an' speak to 'im."

"He has Jasper," I muttered, looking into the distance as Edmund sat with his back to us on a moss-covered boulder. Jasper was beside him, quietly touching his pink nose to my brother's shoulder. He seemed to comfort him in a way I never could.

"But he needs _you_," he said sternly. "Go to him. And for the love of Aslan, please tell that Chestnut to stop sulking over there. The two of you put together are worse than the Mrs. when I helped her sister build her dam last winter. We're all tied together, Peter. We all need each other differently. That's how Aslan intended it to be."

I hung my head and took a deep breath. Why is it Aslan never intended it to be easy?

I walked along the river's edge to where my brother sat, staring out as we all had been at the rising sun. His shoulders were heaving in anxious breaths, and his face was paler than usual. Jasper looked at me with an unreadable expression. The three of us stayed silent for a long moment. Phillip took my action as a cue for him to also join the group, and I watched as Jasper took a step back to let him stand closer to Ed. I didn't miss the blaze of fire in his golden eyes though. Phil snorted quietly, then relaxed as Edmund reached up to scratch his whiskered muzzle.

"My fault," he finally muttered, still not looking at any of us.

"Shut up, Ed," I snapped. "We're not doing this. You're not going to start that. It's no one's fault except the Tarkaans'."

He shook his head. "I let her loose. I released Chay on Narnia. I took the gamble. Now she's out there somewhere, sucking everything dry. The longer we take to find her, the closer Narnia gets to permanent night."

My heart thundered against my ribcage, and I swallowed noisily. "We'll find her, Edmund."

"It's colder this morning than the morning before... and the one before that...."

I didn't bother denying it. I couldn't ignore the slight chill in the summer air.

I squared my shoulders. "Then let's not wait for night to fall. Lucy and Faolchú are in the dam. Let's get them and go."

He finally turned to face me. My heart dropped a little more when I saw the utter defeat in his eyes. "We can't just barge in there and demand to have her back," he argued. "The Tisroc would never admit to knowing of such an offense going on in his kingdom. Although I'm sure he does," he added quietly, staring blankly. "Bastard."

"You're right," I nodded. "We'd have to get her under the radar. It'd be quicker than going through the system anyway."

He looked up at me. "How?"

I chuckled quietly. "I'm the level-head and the leader, Ed. _You're_ the schemer, remember? You tell me."

I hadn't realized that Lucy and the wolf had left the dam until my sister brushed up beside me. Faolchú was at her side, trembling slightly, his black fur on end. Despite my annoyance towards the wolf, I had to feel a blast of sympathy for him just then. Around his one sad eye was a glowing crescent moon of sapphire, from a lunacradonia. It made my chest throb, thinking of Chay's strange, artistic quirks when she was currently bound and beaten and getting ready for a long journey across the desert.

"The only thing we _can_ do is infiltrate the underground," Edmund told us, his weak voice deepening just a bit as he began to plot.

"Posing as Tarkaans?"

He shook his head. "Not this time. Every time we've done that we were simply taking a break from our royal identities, Pete. This time we have no intention of revealing ourselves to the Tisroc or the prince. They'll see us enter the city walls. They'll know we wouldn't be local. We have to pose as slaves... or at least something _like_ slaves."

"Who's slaves?" Lucy asked.

Edmund was silent for a moment. Thinking. "The royal niece of the duchess of Archenland. You journeyed from across the Eastern Sea to explore the wonders beyond, and you heard no city was as grand as the sunshine city of Tashbaan."

"You?" Lucy frowned.

"Yes," Edmund looked over at her, standing from his rock. "You, Lu."

Her eyes burned dangerously. "You're not letting me go underground with you?"

"Not."

"Edmund!" she shrieked. "Don't do this! I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. I'm almost seventeen years old! I've been in battle, I can do this mission! I want to save Chay!"

"You _will_, Lu," I promised. But Edmund was all business now.

"We need a reason to go through those walls, Lucy. You're our ticket in. We can't have you travel as yourself, because Narnian monarchs don't keep slaves. The rituals of the islanders and off-landers are way more ambiguous. We'll need to disguise you as best we can."

"So what do I do once we're in?" she pouted.

"Look pretty and distract that bozo of a prince while Peter and I nose around the underground. We'll be your sleazy servants, looking to buy our own piece of exotic Narnian merchandise."

"I'm coming with you," Phillip snorted firmly.

"No one's getting left behind," he promised.

"How do you plan on getting a talking wolf and a hornless unicorn through those gates without question?" I asked.

"Leave it to the schemer," he said, and I could practically see the gears in his head whirring as he ran over and over his newly forming plan.

"We have quite a journey ahead of us," I noted grimly, dreading the glaring summer sun of the desert between the lush Archenland and the arid city of Tashbaan. "We should probably get started without delay." I swallowed a dry, sharp lump in my throat. "Time is of the essence."

"Not yet," Edmund muttered, and I started. I would assumed he'd be clawing over our bodies to get on the trail towards the desert. "Our resources will be extremely limited once we leave Archenland, and we'll be unable to properly disguise ourselves. Our resources are best right here, with the Beavers to help us. We should get our looks and effects together now while we still can."

I nodded. "You're the schemer," I repeated. "Get to work."

His brow furrowed in concentration as he nodded to himself. "We'll be easy enough," he told me. "We just need Mrs. Beaver to quickly throw together something to cover most of our faces." He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "I need Mr. Beaver to go and collect some of the clay from the riverbed."

"Why?" Faolchú asked.

I already understood where my brother was going. "We're called the White Barbarians," I told him. "So the clay smeared on our skin quickly solves one dead giveaway of our identities."

Edmund looked at Faolchú. "How determined are you to save Chay?" he asked.

A low growl rumbled in Faolchú's throat. I rested my hand on Rhindon's hilt, but Edmund held a hand out to me in warning. "You shouldn't have to ask me that," the wolf snarled.

"Then you won't argue to being completely humiliated for her sake?"

The wolf's snarl vanished and his head tilted curiously to the side. It was funny how quickly he transformed from one creature to another.

"Tell Mrs. Beaver to quickly put together the most obscenely ornate collar and leash for you."

"What?" he snorted, his lips curling over his glistening fangs in disgust.

"You'll be Lu's pet."

I expected further retort, but instead Faolchú only blinked twice before turning quickly and bounding towards the dam.

"What about Jasper?" I asked. "We can't exactly have Lu riding in on him. Even a wealthy, shameless dictator couldn't own a unicorn, hornless or not, without questions being raised."

Ed was running his finger over his chin thoughtfully as he stared at Jasper, who was staring back with a calm, unwavering gaze. "He'll be _our_ ride," my brother said.

Now I was confused. "What?" I frowned. "That makes even _less_ sense. Why?"

"Because the only way to slip him under the radar is to strip him of his unique beauty."

Phillip snorted angrily, stamping the ground. Jasper grinned as much as any unicorn can.

"I think you're beautiful too, Edmund," he chuckled.

"Shut up, Jazz," Ed muttered as he walked towards Phillip, though I caught the smile tugging at his mouth. Phillip was eying Edmund carefully as he reached out and ran a hand through his chestnut mane. "You and I will be riding the filthy white horse," he said to me over his shoulder. "And Lu can come in astride a gleaming chestnut." He looked his old friend in the eye. "We'll be sure to get you as clean as we can before the journey. I know this trip has taken a toll on you. You and Lucy need to look as fresh as possible."

"I've been to Tashbaan many times," Lucy spoke, most of her poutiness gone. "The Tisroc _and_ Rabadash know all too well what I look like. How are we going to take care of that?"

I looked at Edmund, waiting for his answer. The tension in his jaw looked like he was afraid no one would like it.

"You're right Lu," he said gravely. "It needs to be one heck of a disguise." His dark, worried eyes traveled just a few inches from her eyes and up to the top of her head. I frowned curiously, but Lucy seemed to understand. A stony seriousness settled over her face and she ran her fingers absently through her long mahogany hair.

"Do it," she told him quietly.

He shook his head. "Cutting it won't be enough. We need to color it. Something extreme."

"I doubt Mrs. Beaver has any hair dye in the dam," I interjected.

"I wasn't thinking hair dye...."

Lu's eyes widened just the slightest. She was evidently catching on much quicker than I was. I watched her swallow nervously. "You're thinking lunacradonias?" she asked him. My face must have mirrored hers just then.

Edmund nodded sadly.

"I won't come out," I argued. "Ever."

He repeated the nod.

Lucy looked up into the sky, where the sun was now clearing the mountains. Its glow was a soft melon color, and there was a chilly wind whipping through the trees. It didn't feel much like summer anymore.

"I told you I can handle it," Lucy spoke through set teeth. "Do it," she said again.

But Edmund wasn't looking at her anymore. His eyes were still caught by the weakness of the rising sun.

Faolchú came bounding across the bank, having just emerged from the dam. He looked around the silent group until his gaze settled on my brother's distant expression.

"How much time, Edmund?" he asked.

Ed finally broke his stare and turned to look at us. He looked at me. "My job is done, Pete. You take it from here."  
All eyes met mine: the huge black ones of Phillip, the soft brave eyes of my sister, the unnervingly serene golden eyes of Jasper, the anxious and skeptical sapphire stare of the wolf, and the trusting but sad eyes of my brother, almost black in this weak morning light.

"We leave in two hours," I breathed. "Let's get to work."

********

As Seen Through the Eyes of Jasper the Unicorn:

I was impressed; and I had never been easy to impress. The ways in which the Pevensie siblings worked together was truly amazing. Each one had their own set of skills, their own divine gifts which were used at just the right time. They knew each other's strengths and weaknesses just as well as they knew their own, and understood just when to pass the responsibilities onto one another. I understood better with each setting sun why the Great Aslan had worked through these humans before. Something different powered them. Something greater than courage, stronger than determination, deeper than love.

I watched as we all transformed ourselves into a band of travelers from across the seas. Edmund remarked wistfully that he wished there were many more of us. "It looks a bit strange for a monarch from so distant a land to be traveling in such a small party," he'd noted. "But I'll come up with some kind of excuse on the trip there.... I have time."

I marveled at his cunning. Despite my early skepticism and my constant teasing, I had liked Edmund from the beginning. But I would never have guessed that such a young human could devise such a plan so quickly. His eighteen years of life was like the tiny space between a rising and falling sun when you compared it to my life. And yet he and his young brother and sister seemed to have so much more wisdom.

He and Peter had, as Edmund had predicted, an easy enough time preparing their disguises. Aside from rubbing some red clay from the riverbed across their faces, arms, and hands, the rest of the deception was all in their attire. The female Beaver was quite resourceful, and extremely handy with a sewing needle, and rapidly put together a pair of robes for them using her own curtains and a pair of bathrobes she had been planing on giving the two Queens for Christmas. The dark red fabric draped over their bodies loosely, concealing almost everything about them... age, physique, and the weapons they had dangling on their belts. The golden fabric from her curtains covered their entire faces, aside from their eyes, which stared out dangerously from the cloth.

"Try not to look quite so intimating when you're in their presence," Mr. Beaver had advised them upon appraising his wife's work. "I don't think most slaves have that sort'a dignit'y about them."

Faolchú was also easy enough to deal with. He was burningly eager to save Chay, and therefore threw no fit when Mrs. Beaver pushed the ruffled blue collar over his head. I was good enough to hold my laughing whinny back as the beaver showed Lucy how to attach and detach the matching leash.

Peter was not.

"You make a good accessory," he chuckled as the wolf released a rumbling snarl that would frighten most humans. The High King rested a hand on his sword while Edmund just rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, Pete," he chided wearily. "You're the one who's wearing a pillowcase."

"Curtain and bathrobe," Mrs. Beaver corrected quietly.

"And you," Edmund turned to the bristling wolf. "Just be sure to _keep your mouth shut_ once we're through those gates. You're just a wolf. Got it?"

"Mouth shut," he nodded briskly. "May I suggest you give those same orders to the walking laundry basket?"

Peter's eyes blazed, Edmund chuckled for the first time all morning, and I heard Mr. Beaver quietly assure his wife that the outfits were wonderful.

Lucy's transformation was a bit more involved.

Just as her brothers had, she rubbed her body down in the red clay, creating an even tone of russet on her once pale skin. Mrs. Beaver sobbed softly as she stood behind Lucy with a pair of scissors and chopped off her long locks of hair. Funny, the attachment some have to their hair. Though I had to admit I would be shaken if someone had snipped off my mane, or my long tail. However in all fairness, I'd already lost enough. As the long strands of slightly curling hair fell to the ground, Mrs. Beaver continued to weep quietly. "It'll grow back," she sobbed to the human child. "I promise."

And then Edmund and Peter, wearing gloves, sadly smeared handfuls of lunacradonias over her newly cropped hair. Her natural dark brown was quickly swallowed by the glowing blue sap.

"You can dye it back right," Peter kept assuring her. "It won't have to look like this forever."

But despite all their sadness and soft promises, Lucy Pevensie did not weep. Her lips didn't tremble and her voice did not shake. She simply sat straight and sturdy atop her rock on the river's edge, her eyes staring into Faolchú's as the wolf sat before her with his head tilted curiously, watching her. As her brothers continued to work the lunacradonias into her hair, she reached out to the wolf, who cautiously approached her extended hand. Lucy ran a finger carefully over the glowing crescent moon around his eye, and I saw her stony face break into a smile.

I liked Lucy Pevensie.

The clothing for our new Princess from over the Sea was not easy to invent either. Lucy had only been wearing traveling clothes, hardly befitting the kind of royalty that travels with a pet wolf on the end of an embarrassing leash.

"White would be the best color to show off that deep skin," Mrs. Beaver mulled to herself. "And perhaps a hint of blue to accent... your hair."

I was simply astounded at the way that rodent worked. She sent her husband down river to visit the Badgers and ask the wife for her set of white bedsheets.

"Mrs. Badger always liked to sleep in luxury," she informed us. "I always did quite well with just a hand-knitted throw and my man to keep me warm."

I liked Mrs. Beaver too.

And so in just under half and hour, Mrs. Beaver was able to sew together a draping dress of white, ordering Edmund to stain a series of ribbons blue with the rest of the lunacradonias. The ribbons were then wrapped delicately around the waist of the new gown, and a few of them wound their way around Lucy's neck.

"I'd put a white lily behind your ear, dear," she told Lucy was we examined her new look, "But I'm sure it would wilt in the desert."

Lucy stood before us looking like an entirely different woman. She smiled uncertainly out from her dark, pretty face, her berry-stained lips stretching over her white teeth. Her hair was now cropped incredibly short, pointing out in all directions, the sunlight making the sapphire tint truly dazzling. She could have been ten years older than she really was. The white dress fell to her sandaled feet and bits of Mrs. Beaver's dissembled wind chime dangled from her ears and from the band that wrapped around her wild hair. I would never had known it to be her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Beaver," she spoke in the strange new accent she was inventing for our journey. "You've done so much already."

Lucy certainly looked spell-binding. However, her new exotic appearance did not compare to the angelic beauty she possessed naturally. I missed it already. But I would never tell her that.

My turn was fun. After watching Lucy's tough transformation, I felt no need to fuss about becoming a common slave horse. Peter and Lucy laughed as they wilding swept their hands through my mane, tangling the silver locks with their fingers. Peter put in a couple of burs for good measure. It felt nice having them brush me like that, laughing and talking to me... even if it was damaging my look. They did the same to my tail before I stepped into the riverbed and rolled in the mud. It felt good... I didn't do that nearly as often as I should. I grunted contently to myself, throwing my hooves up and letting the silky mud slosh on my sides and spit into the air. I heard a familiar chuckle from not far away and paused to see the world upside-down around me. Edmund was leaning against a tree, his cloth mask pulled down around his neck and a smile on his russet face as he watched me roll.

I stayed where I was, hooves in the air and head upside down. "Can I help you?" I asked seriously.

He blew out another chuckle and shook his head. It was good to see him laugh. "No, no," he insisted. "Just... carry on."

A few more good rolls and then I sprawled my legs out to lift me from the earth. Hunks of mud and dirt flew around me as I shook myself, another contented sigh grunted through my nose and rumbled in my chest.

"What do you think?" I asked, turning to him. "Do I look ordinary?"

He raised his brow. "You could never look ordinary," he frowned, as if this bothered him. "But you certainly don't scream out _unicorn_ quite so loudly."

"Never thought I'd be so happy to be hornless," I muttered.

"That scar on your face is obviously still visible," he mulled, drawer nearer and staring at my forehead. "I'll have to come up with another lie," he sighed.

_You need to know the truth before you can lie. And we don't,_ I pointed out.

"Good point." He leaned in closer to my face and sighed again. "You're eyes are still a bit unnerving..." he noted. "But we can't do anything about it." He took a few steps back and continued to look carefully at me. His mouth twisted into a worried grimace. "Just don't... stare at people like you tend to do. It's weird. Be a passive horse, okay?"

I snorted a short burst of laughter and nodded my head. My mane felt heavy with dirt and tangles as it shook on my neck.

"Do you want to look at yourself in the river?" he asked me.

"By the Lion! No!" I stamped. "The rolling was fun, but I refuse to see what a mess I've become."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You vain thing."

That was the most relaxed I'd seen him in a while, and about thirty seconds later Peter approached, and I knew it'd be a while before I saw him like that again.

"Ed... we need to get going. Everyone is ready, and we have a really long trip ahead of us. I'd like to get as near to Archenland as we can by nightfall, and it's on the other side of Narnia."

Edmund nodded sullenly, looking up at the sun winking through the treetops. He did that a lot lately. I could finally hear a coherent thought from him: _This is pulling me away,_ he was thinking. _Saving Chay will cost us this whole journey._

"What makes you say that?" I asked as we began to walk behind Peter.

He looked over at me with that familiar scowl. "Cut that out."

"Tell me."

He sighed. "I thought that I was being led. That the dreams you were giving me--"

_I'm __**not**__ giving you them...._

"--were giving me the clues we needed to find these rings. The latest dream led us to the lantern. To that strange line of light in the trees. But Chay's disappearance pulled me away. Now we're forced to go in the opposite direction to go after her." He shrugged, his face looked drawn and pale somehow, even with the dark clay on his skin. "Even if we find her after the two-day journey ahead, we'll still be lost, and Narnia will still be dying."

I looked down at the forest floor, the wet leaves I was pushing with my muddy hooves, and sighed. What do you say of something so close to the truth? I inched closer to him and pressed my nose gently into his back.

_Path's change_, I insisted. "You know that better than most. Your path has changed many times, Edmund."

When we reached the dam again, the Beavers were wishing a tearful farewell to the others. I leaned down and touched my nose to their small paws tenderly. I would miss them. It was strange, these emotions I was feeling lately. I spent my entire life, more years than I could count, wandering this world, and had made no acquaintances whom I could ever honestly miss. One day, and I knew I would miss these Beavers.

"You're special," Mrs. Beaver whispered into my ear as I leaned my head closer. "Take care of him."

I let her wrap her small warm arms around my snout as I shut my eyes softly. "I promise."

It was late morning by the time we began our trek south, but it felt like it should have been much later. Faolchú was quiet and grave, his bright eyes afire with determination as he trotted alongside Phillip and me. I didn't put up a fight when the Horse asked Edmund to ride him first. We had quite a long trip ahead of us, and we'd never get there if I began fighting him at every turn. Besides, Edmund had pretty much already admitted I was better-looking. I chuckled to myself as I felt Lucy run her hands through my tangled mane. Peter sat right behind her, holding onto my bare back with practiced skill.

We soared through the woods, along the Great River, towards Beruna. The sun may have been a bit weaker, but the light was pure and golden as it sparkled through the forest and we ran through its spotlights. Edmund looked over at me, peering out through his hooded robe, and smiled. It wasn't a bright grin, more of a forced smile, but I appreciated the effort. I saw a flash of his thoughts. He was remembering the Dancing Lawn, alongside the Rush River, sprawled out like a carpet of teal grass and white flowers beneath a starry clearing in the treetops.

Since I could read it, I hoped it meant we'd be sleeping there tonight.

I was happy these thoughts distracted me from the fact that Beaversdam was now far from our sight. I didn't feel like being sad again so soon.

********

**_A/N:::::: Got nothin but love for you._**

**_--Tiki_**


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